


Three Sugars Please

by Elsie876



Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anal Sex, Drug Use, Eventual Romance, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Homophobic Language, In-Universe Coffee Shop AU, Internalized Homophobia, Kidnapping, Kissing, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Past Child Abuse, Shower Sex, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-01-26 19:15:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21379159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsie876/pseuds/Elsie876
Summary: What if instead of working Z-shift, Lister and Rimmer worked at the coffee shop on Red Dwarf?  So far, each chapter either covers a day in their life or it references particular days and what that might look like for them.
Relationships: Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer
Comments: 41
Kudos: 78





	1. A Typical Day

“From Ganymede to Titan, la, la, la....”

“Lister, shut up! Are you even aware of how many coffee orders we have to get through? One of the officers will be here to pick up their order at any minute now!”

Lister rolled his eyes as he finished drizzling the caramel syrup on Captain Hollister’s Caramel Coconut Latte. Suddenly, Rimmer zeroed in on him.

“Lister, does that even look remotely like a Caramel Coconut Latte? You’re supposed to top it off with whipped cream and caramel sprinkles, not foam and caramel syrup! You may be a goit who can’t tell the difference, but officers have standards! We are the only coffee shop on Red Dwarf and it’s essential that we provide coffee better than a vending machine....”

Lister sighed and started re-making the Captain’s drink again while Rimmer continued to rant at him. Then, a burning smell started to overtake the tiny coffee shop.

“Rimmer, the panini’s burning.”

Rimmer cursed and took the burnt panini off the grill. He would have to grill a new one and smeg knew how long that would take. 

“This is all your fault! If I hadn’t had to scold you, I wouldn’t have forgotten it.”

Lister had lost track of how many sandwiches Rimmer had burnt in the five months he’d been working as a barista on Red Dwarf. For all his ranting about standards, he sure was smegging bad at following any of them. Lister shared a sympathetic look with Petersen when he came in with the dessert cart.

“One tray of lemon squares, one tray of croissants and one tray of donuts as requested.”

“Cheers, man.”

Rimmer insisted on inspecting each tray after Petersen left. This time, Lister saved the second panini before it burned just as Todhunter came in. 

“All well, chaps?”

Rimmer dropped his inspection and saluted Todhunter while Lister smiled at him. 

“Order’s all ready to go, sir. Four coffees and one panini coming right up.”

Lister handed him the officer’s order on a takeaway tray and Todhunter left before Rimmer could say anything, which was really for the best. 

“Condescending git,” muttered Rimmer once he was certain Todhunter could not hear him. 

“At least he’s nice,” retorted Lister, “unlike a certain smeghead I could name.”

“Very funny, Lister. Unlike you, I’ll be out of here soon as I pass my next exam. Up, up, up the ziggurat I go.”

Lister began to tidy up before the next set of orders arrived. According to the other old-timers in Catering, Rimmer had been saying that for the past twelve years. They had also told him to just ignore him, but it was so hard when he was such a smeghead. No wonder everyone else had transferred out of the coffee shop. Well, that and the nature of the job itself. Being a barista on a mining ship hadn’t sounded so bad back when he was trying to get off Mimas, but smeg this job was tedious. Making the same fancy overpriced coffees over and over again could drive any sane person mad and add in the long hours (up before everyone else, off work ten hours later if they were lucky) and Rimmer and it was a miracle he’d lasted this long. Lister was just about to chuck the Caramel Coconut Latte he’d smegged up when Holly’s face appeared on the screen above,

“You’ve got a large order coming in from the miners.”

Lister looked down at the coffee he was about to chuck and chugged it down instead.

“That’s JMC property! That's it, miladdo, you’re going on report again.”

Rimmer got out the dupe pad he used to take orders and started writing yet another report on Lister. Lister just ignored him. He had at least another four hours on shift. Sweet as it was, he enjoyed every last sip of that Caramel Coconut Latte.


	2. Fish Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fish day is a long one for both of them.

Fish day, as it later came to be known, started like any other day. Lister woke up at 5 a.m. shiptime so he could start work at six (If you’d have told him seven months ago back on Mimas, he’d be getting up at five in the morning, he would have laughed himself sick). Usually, he had to fight with Rimmer to get in their tiny, shared shower first, but Rimmer was sitting at his desk revising for his exam, which happened to be that same morning. Rimmer muttered incoherently as he thumbed through his textbooks. Lister did not care so long as he stayed out of his way. At least this way, he had a chance of grabbing a quick breakfast from a vending machine before work.

It would be just another day when he had the morning shift all to himself. He would have to brew all the drinks and prepare all the food orders, but at least he would not have Rimmer nagging at him.

The morning started out normal. He started brewing the first rounds of coffee around six. Orders started to trickle in around opening (6:30 a.m.), rushed in around seven, and stayed busy until 9:30 when they started to drop off. By ten, it was quiet. A few people came by on their breaks, but other than that, there were no other orders. 

Lister used the time to brew more coffee for the lunch rush, receive the day’s sandwiches from Catering, and to clean up. He was nowhere near Rimmer’s obsessive level of tidyness, but by now, he could keep everything in the shop reasonably clean. On his own time was a different story, but no one would dock his pay or revoke his drinking privileges if he failed to meet the required standards in his bunkroom. Here was a different story. One never knew when the Head of Catering might choose to pay the coffee shop a visit so Lister cleaned everything he could think of.

Rimmer showed up around 11:30 a.m.

“You’re in early,” remarked Lister. 

Rimmer just grunted. That should have been a warning to Lister, but he was just glad he was not an incoherent mess.

“You’re not scheduled ‘till noon. Exam finish early?”

Rimmer just looked at him.

“Well, never mind that,” said Lister to cover the awkwardness that had filled the tiny coffee shop. “Get your apron on. Lunch rush’ll be coming by any minute.”

Instead of protesting that he would not take orders from Lister, he obeyed him. Lister barely had any time to wonder at Rimmer’s sudden meekness when the lunch orders came rushing in both from Holly and from the line of customers at the counter. For once, Rimmer let Lister do all the talking and said nothing as he made various lattes, espressos and macchiatos and other drinks with even more ridiculous names. At least, that was what he was supposed to be doing. 

Navigation Officer Davis was the first to notice. She was on her dinner break and sitting at one of the four tables eating her Italian meat panini and drinking her latte (no sugar) when suddenly she stopped and stood up. Lister expected a complaint. What she said instead was far worse.

“What on Jupiter is he writing on the board?”

Lister looked up. There was Rimmer writing on the menu board right in the middle of the lunch rush. Usually that had the coffee and food menu and Rimmer was obsessive about keeping it updated and pristine. Today, though, he had erased everything and was now writing, “I am a fish” all over the board.

“Rimmer, what the smeg are you doing?”

Rimmer ignored him until Lister took the chalk right out of his hand.

“I have an exam to write! Give it back!”

Lister looked at him in horror. He’d gone completely around the bend. Orders were already backing up, people were staring, and Lister had to act fast. Lister grabbed Rimmer’s forearm and steered him to the back where they stored the coffee and extra syrups. 

“Rimmer, just leave. I’ll handle things here.”

“But if I don’t finish the exam, he’ll be angry.”

Lister sighed impatiently. He didn’t have time for this.

“Who will be angry?”

Rimmer looked at him as if Lister was the imbecile. 

“Father, of course. He has quite the temper.”

This was even worse than Lister had first thought. He’d regressed as well as cracked. What the smeg was he supposed to do?

Then, Lister had an idea.

“It’s tomorrow, Rimmer, not today. Go to medibay and they’ll give you some sleeping pills. I’ll even write a slip for you.”

Rimmer looked at him for the first time since he’d cracked.

“Really? I’m not in trouble?”

Lister wrote a quick summary of Rimmer’s present mental state on his dupe pad, (more like a few words, but that should be enough. If Lister had to bet, the gossip would reach medibay before Rimmer did), tore it off and gave it to Rimmer.

“Nope. You’re good, smeghead. Now go.”

Rimmer left clutching the slip in his hand. At least the coffee shop had a back door he could use to leave discreetly. It was up to Lister to go back out there and face the customers. Everyone was staring at the uniforms lines of ‘I am a fish’ on the menu board and Lister hurried to erase it. 

“Sorry about the interruption. I’ll have your orders ready for you soon.”

“What about Rimmer?” asked another person in the queue.

“He’s off work for now,” replied Lister once he’d finished erasing everything. He had no wish to say any more than that. “Now, may I take your order?”

Somehow, Lister got through the endless lunch, coffee and dessert orders. More people came by than usual, probably all hoping to see ‘I am a fish’. Right now, Lister hated them all, but he hid it behind a fake smile until 3:30 p.m. when the shop closed. Lister was in the middle of closing when Holly’s face appeared on the screen.

“Head Catering Officer Hawkins is coming here to see you about the incident earlier.”

“Smegging hell.”

It was what Lister expected, but that would add yet more work to an already long day. He sure as smeg hoped that he would get overtime for this. Even with all the cleaning he’d done earlier, the shop was a mess and since he was on his own it would take at least forty minutes to get it ready for tomorrow. Maybe more. 

Caroline Hawkins, or the Hawk as she was better known, came in just as he was cleaning the espresso machine. She was a short woman in her sixties who barely came up to Lister’s chin, but he had seen her cut men down twice her size with a single look. She held a rank equivalent to a First Officer and no one with half a brain cell would try to cross her (not even Rimmer or Petersen). Her eyes swept around the shop, noting the mess.

“Busy day?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied. “They packed the shop.”

The Hawk snorted. “Not surprised. Tell me what happened.”

Lister gave her a brief summary, and she let him talk, only interrupting to ask questions. When he was done, she sighed.

“That’s a reprimand coming his way. What a waste. You did well, though.”

Lister was astonished. “Me?”

The Hawk looked up from the report she was writing. “Yes, you. You got him out of here before he could smeg things up even more and you stayed at your post. Not many would do that.”

In spite of everything, he was chuffed. That was the first work compliment he had ever received. “Thanks.”

She smiled at him. “Don’t let it get to your head. As for Rimmer, he’s been sedated now and has been ordered to take a week to rest.”

Lister suppressed a groan. “Will I be on my own then?”

“I’ll get Sally and Rachel in to cover your day off and pitch in on the others. Sally’s already agreed to cover tomorrow morning.”

(They were two of the bartenders who were also trained as baristas, and could be called in a pinch.)

“That’s nice of her,” he replied. “She getting overtime?”

“Of course,” replied the Hawk. “Try not to get too drunk tonight. You’re still on tomorrow afternoon.”

Lister gave her one of his sloppy salutes and his most charming smile. “Yes, Ma’am.”

The Hawk smiled in spite of herself. “Back to work. I’d hate for Sally to come in to a dirty shop.”

Then, the Hawk left and Lister went back to cleaning. It always amazed him how such a tiny shop could get so messy so fast. Perhaps Rimmer had a point with his obsessive cleaning.

Lister stopped mid-cleaning. Oh no, he did not just think that Rimmer had a good point. What was the world coming to? He’d best finish it fast before the coffee fumes warped his brain even further. He sped through the rest of it.

Even so, it was long past four when he was done. Petersen was already waiting in the back by the time he got there and hung up his apron. Petersen took one look at Lister’s face and handed him the flask of whiskey he kept tucked in his chef’s coat for emergencies. Lister took a giant swig.

“Cheers, man.”

It was only after he handed it back that Petersen asked.

“Is it true Rimmer wrote ‘I am a fish’ all over the shop?”

“No, just the menu board and that was bad enough. Let’s go.”

They headed for the Copacabana as they always did after work. Once they were out in the public corridors, Lister definitely noticed the whispers and stares of pity. He avoided looking anyone in the eye, not wanting to talk to anyone else before he had sat down and had a stiff drink. At last, they made it. Chen and Selby had already gotten started and for once had left a beer for Lister that he took before Petersen could.

“Where’s my beer?” Petersen asked.

“Order it yourself,” retorted Chen. “So is it true?”

After a few, Lister told them whole story from start to finish. He only left out the part about Rimmer regressing and saying his father would be angry with him. Asshole and smeghead though he was, even Rimmer did not deserve to have that gossip spread around the ship. The rest he told, adding various drunken embellishments he would likely regret. For now, though, he did not care.

Later, he stumbled back into their sleeping quarters pleasurably drunk and singing “From Ganymede to Titan” again. They were dark so he figured Rimmer was still at medibay. He’d been sedated after all.

“Lights,” he called out.

The lights came on and there was Rimmer in his bunk, eyes open, staring at Lister. 

“Sorry,” said Lister. “I thought you were still in hospital. Do you want them off?”

Rimmer said nothing. He was in his pyjamas at least so that was one small mercy. Smegging hell, couldn’t this day just be over already?

“You okay, Rimmer?”

Still nothing. Lister sighed. 

“I’m just going to get ready for bed, okay?”

Rimmer still said nothing so Lister decided to get ready for bed while keeping half an eye on him. Most nights he would just sleep in his clothes so he just brushed his teeth. It was only when he approached the bunk that Rimmer spoke. 

“You’re not angry with me, are you?”

Lister looked at him. Was he serious? He doubted it. 

“I will be if I don’t get any sleep,” he replied playfully.

Rimmer shrank back.

“Never mind.”

Smeg, he had been serious. 

“No, I’m just tired. Get some sleep, smeghead.”

Lister climbed up the bunk and called for the lights to be switched off. If he heard any signs of crying from the bottom bunk, he just ignored them. At least he could give Rimmer that small mercy. At last, he fell into an uneasy sleep. 

All too soon, Rimmer was poking him awake.

“Get up, you goit.”

Lister blinked. He had one smegging hell of a hangover.

“Smeg off, Rimmer.”

“It’s eleven-fifteen, you gimboid. Your shift starts in less than an hour.”

“Smeg!”

Lister jumped down from the bunk and ran to the shower. By the time he was done, a cup of vending-machine coffee was waiting on their table. There was also a scone with butter and jam as well. 

“Revoltingly sweet and full of cream just the way you like it,” said Rimmer.

Lister eyed the coffee suspiciously, but he could not see or smell anything wrong so he drank it.

“Thanks, Rimmer.”

“I don’t want a reprimand on your account as well,” he replied quickly, but it lacked the usual bite. “Now eat your scone.”

Lister nibbled the scone and tasted nothing wrong with it so he wolfed it down.

“Why the generosity?” he asked afterwards.

“I’m merely ensuring that my junior employee is work ready,” replied Rimmer. “Of course, I charged them to your account and took a delivery tip.”

That sounded more like Rimmer. Trust him to spend Lister’s money. Still, it saved him some time before work.

“Thanks, again.”

Was that a blush he detected on Rimmer?

“You’ll be late for work if you don’t leave within the next minute.”

“All right, smeghead. I’m off.”

Lister couldn’t help grinning as he walked away from their sleeping quarters.


	3. Long Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now it's Lister's turn to lose it.

After Fish Day, things changed between him and Rimmer. Rimmer was still as exacting as ever, but there were far fewer lectures. Also, when Lister asked him a question about how to make a particular drink, Rimmer actually showed him how to do it. True, he would insult him while doing it, but that was nothing to before

As for Fish Day, they never spoke of it. The story had gone out to the whole ship, but by the time Rimmer returned to work it was old news. Rimmer had been able to escape a formal reprimand on one condition: no taking exams for one year. Lister was surprised Rimmer had agreed to that until he found out that it was the Hawk who arranged that. Rimmer whinged about it when he was certain that the Hawk could not hear him, but Lister suspected he was glad to have an excuse to stop revising. 

Lister still smelled far too much like coffee for his liking, but otherwise, since Rimmer had stopped being such a colossal smeghead (for the most part), the job was a whole lot better than parking trolleys at the Megamart or hopper driving on Mimas. The one rub was the long hours, but at least they had the vending machines for serving coffee when they weren’t open. 

However, that was soon to change. By now, they had arrived at Triton and the ore mining was in full swing. For reasons only known to the JMC, that was also when they chose to update all the programming on their vending machines. Their excuse that it was the one time that they could rely on the ship to maintain a relatively stable position. The fact that it would be a massive inconvenience for everyone on the ship if something screwed up was not their problem. After all, that was what the crew was for. 

Lister and Rimmer were both in their shared bunkroom on one of their rare days off when they got the call. Rimmer was sitting on his bunk reading one of his many military histories and Lister was sprawled on the metal couch on some pillows he’d pilfered reading a library book. Or to be precise, reading an Asterix comic he’d checked out of the ship’s library, a fact that did not escape Rimmer’s notice.

“It’s completely unrealistic, you know.”

Lister rolled his eyes. “A comic with magic potion is unrealistic? Thanks, Rimmer.”

“I know that it’s fiction, you goit! The whole conceit is unbelievable. Would the Gauls really be content to stay in their little village if they had a magic potion that gave them super-strength? Why wouldn’t they just use it to defeat Caesar and take back Gaul? Or use it to conquer Rome in their turn? That’s what I would do.”

Lister sighed. “That’s not the point. They just want to protect what they have and have fun. Sounds good to me.”

“That’s because you have all the ambition of a single-celled amoeba.”

Lister was about to retort back when Holly’s face appeared on the screen.

“Attention: All Catering staff not already on shift are to report for duty at Canteen 3 pronto.”

“But we’ve just worked six days straight!” protested Rimmer.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Holly. “All Catering Officers are to report for duty now or risk a charge of dereliction of duty. Officers Todhunter and Hawkins will be there to give you orders. You have fifteen minutes to get ready.”

Then, the screen went blank. Lister groaned.

“What a load of smeg.”

For once, Rimmer did not scold him for insubordination. Like the rest of Catering, they worked six-day weeks because the JMC was too cheap to hire the extra help they would need to take two days off in a row. It was legal so long as they offered extra leave in return. Due to reciprocal agreements with the ports to close all restaurants on board while their ships were docked on shore leave, all their extra vacation days happened on shore leave. Which would not happen again for another eight months. By the time they got another day off, they would have worked almost two weeks straight. 

They dressed in silence and made their way to Canteen 3. They had to take a lift down, but at least it was just ten floors down. They were the only ones in that car. 

“Do you think it’s bad?” Lister said.

Rimmer snorted. “That git Todhunter’s there. Of course it’s bad. Do you think he’d sully his pretty white uniform in a miner’s Canteen unless he had any other choice?”

“He’s not that bad,” said Lister. “Better him than some of the others.”

Some of the other officers were rather fond of reminding them that they were Real Officers, unlike the lazy ponces in Catering. Lister made sure to spit in their drinks when Rimmer wasn’t looking.

Once off the lift, they joined the other sullen Catering staff that had expected a day off. Lister soon caught up with Petersen.

“Heard what this is about?”

Petersen took a swig out of his flask. “Heard it’s the vending machines.”

“Of course,” said Rimmer behind them. “I’d be willing to bet fifty dollarpounds they’ve updated them again.”

The others turned to look at him. Of all of them, Rimmer had been here the longest. Rimmer relished the attention.

“Last time they were updated, all the vending machines recited sixteenth-century French poetry instead of dispensing food. Took three whole days for the software engineers and technicians to sort that one out.”

“You’re pulling our leg,” said Gardiner, a girl with dreads Lister didn’t know well.

“Ask Anderson,” replied Rimmer. “He was here for that. Of course, he was also coked to the eyeballs so his memory may be a bit shot.”

The others rolled their eyes at Rimmer’s remark and entered Canteen 3. Canteen 3 was one of the many cafeterias reserved for the use of the miners when they came on the ship for their meal breaks. Because there were so many miners, different canteens were assigned to cover them at different times of the day. Canteen 3 was open in the evenings so Catering used it as a meeting area during the day on the rare occasions they bothered to have meetings. 

Lister followed Petersen to a table where his fellow line cooks were sitting. When Rimmer sat at the table next to them, the others sitting there all got up and left leaving him to sit alone. Even for a smeghead like Rimmer, that was too much. Lister got up and sat at Rimmer’s table.

“Ah look, it’s the two coffee boys together,” said one of Petersen’s mates.

“Smeg off,” replied Lister.

Thankfully, before Rimmer had a chance to speak, the Hawk walked in with Todhunter and everyone fell silent. Todhunter looked distinctly uncomfortable to Lister, even behind that smooth officer demeanour. 

“I’m afraid I have some rather bad news for you all. All our vending machines are out of commission. The voice recognition software’s gone haywire so Captain Hollister’s ordered them shut them off until they’re safe to use again.”

“I knew it,” muttered Rimmer.

“As such, we have to rely on Catering to feed everyone on this ship. You’re seconded until further notice. Rest assured, you will be paid overtime and us officers and our engineers and techs will also be working overtime to fix the problem. Hawkins here will give you your assignments. Over to you, Hawkins.”

“Thank you, Todhunter. As you may have heard, the cause is the recent update the JMC saw fit to send us. We’ve got a double shift of miners to feed along with everyone else on the ship so it’s going to be a busy one for all of us. I don’t want to hear whining from any of you, got it?”

She looked directly at Rimmer as she said this. Everyone else, including Lister, was glad it wasn’t them she was looking at and pretended they were invisible. 

“Good,” she said after a moment’s silence. “Those of you awaiting kitchen assignments, line up here. Everyone else, to your stations.”

Lister got up slowly. Double shifts meant double the takeaway coffee orders from the miners, and with the vending machines down, the coffee shop was the only place on the ship to get takeaway coffee now. This day would be a long one. Rimmer just looked resigned.

“Does this happen every time there’s an update?” he asked Rimmer.

“You’d better believe it, miladdo,” he replied. “We’re in the smeg now.”

“Brutal,” he said sarcastically, and Rimmer actually snickered for a moment. Was that an actual smile? It disappeared soon enough.

“The coffee won’t brew itself. Come on.”

Lister followed Rimmer out of Canteen 3 along with the other unlucky catering officers. The only ones who looked cheerful were the ones who also dealt drugs to the rest of Catering. Today was going to be a lucrative day for them. One of them, Smith (another old timer), approached Lister.

“Got a special on green tabs today. Half price.”

Lister was tempted, but Rimmer was right there and he would be sure to report him. What Rimmer said next shocked him.

“Buy them, Lister.”

Lister’s jaw dropped. Since when did Rimmer encourage others to buy drugs? He doubted the smeghead had ever dropped a bong much less anything else. Yet, here he was encouraging Lister to buy amphetamines. 

Rimmer’s eyes darted to the cafeteria door, “Just do it before any outsiders see.”

Lister knew he meant Todhunter.

“Yeah, sure. How much?”

Even half-price, they were still outrageous, but at least they had something. Lister didn’t want to imagine how long their workday was going to be. By the time they reached the Café, the orders from Holly had already piled up. Rimmer sent Lister to get extra bags of coffee while he set others to brew.

“Enjoy it, miladdo. It’s the last time you’ll leave the coffee shop for, oh, the next sixteen hours at least.”

“You’re joking.”

“Why do you think I encouraged you earlier? We’re going to need all the help we can get. Now hurry!”

Lister hurried. By the time he got back, there was already a line going outside the shop. The hours passed in a blur of coffee and food orders without a second to breathe, much less take a break. It was so busy Rimmer did not even bother to inspect the baked goods when Petersen brought them up, instead just ordering Lister to put them out right away. They disappeared fast. 

3:30 p.m. came and went, but as the vending machines were not fixed, they had to stay open. Mercifully, there was a small break around 4:30 when there were no customers or orders. Both Lister and Rimmer took that as a chance for a bathroom and food break. Lister closed the door, placed a “back in twenty minutes” sign outside and asked Holly to hold the orders. 

“I’ll try my best. Vending machines are still out, but I’ll tell the others to hold their orders so you can re-stock.”

“Cheers, Hol.” 

Holly winked at him and vanished, leaving the two of them alone for the first time since this madness had started. Lister threw a couple of paninis on the grill while Rimmer poured two cups of the strongest dark roast they had. 

“How many sugars?”

“Three sugars please.”

Rimmer rolled his eyes, but he complied. He also added milk to Lister’s without asking. Once their sandwiches were grilled, they hung their aprons up and went to sit in the back, out of the customer’s sight. Rimmer leaned against the extra bags of coffee with a sigh, one hand resting on his knee, the other one eating the panini. Lister had never seen him relax like this before. He supposed Rimmer was too tired to care about propriety and all that smeg. Lister certainly was. Of course, he never cared to begin with. He sprawled out on the floor as normal. He took a swig of his coffee and it tasted perfect, the way Rimmer’s usually did. Rimmer may be crap at the other parts of his job, but the man could make an excellent cup of coffee. They ate their sandwiches and drank their coffees in blessed silence. It was only when Lister was finished with his food and took out a green tablet that Rimmer spoke up.

“Not yet. Save it for when you’ll really need it.”

“But this is the one break we might get.”

“Those are good for when the caffeine fails. Not before. Besides, we’re more likely to get caught if we take them early.”

Now Lister was curious. “How d’you know?”

“Experience,” replied Rimmer. “How do you think an inexperienced goit like you got this job in the first place? My last assistant combined meths and alcohol on the job and got thrown into stasis and sacked at the next port. The one before that was a coke fiend. Compared to them, you’re an innocent schoolboy.”

Bit rich of Rimmer to be calling someone else an innocent schoolboy, but Lister kept that to himself. Drug use was officially forbidden, but everyone knew that there would be no one but Rimmer working in Catering if that ban were strictly enforced. In reality, as long as you did your work, did not overdo it and, most importantly, did not get caught, everyone just ignored it. 

As for Lister, he had not touched anything harder than alcohol since he’d ended up on Mimas. For that reason, he followed Rimmer’s advice and put the tablets away. Rimmer smiled.

“Good. I’d hate to lose you, too.”

Lister gaped. As soon as Rimmer realized what he had said, he started to protest.

“I mean as my assistant of course. Nothing more than that. Nothing at all.”

“Whatever you say, Rimmer. Come on. Time to get back to work.”

Lister felt annoyed, but he could not explain why. Why should he care that Rimmer saw him as nothing more than a valued work colleague? Rimmer finding him tolerable was the best he could hope for. It wasn’t as if they would ever be anything more.

They got back to the counter two minutes before their twenty minutes was up. Rimmer had set two pots to boil before so all they had to do was a quick clean before they let the customers back in. They had an avalanche of orders from the night shift of miners as soon their break time was up. Luckily, there were far fewer people coming into the shop itself so they were able to stay out of the weeds. This time of night most would go to one of the restaurants or bars if they wanted to buy food or coffee. The only people who would come in at this time of night were the officers stuck on night shift or those who could not find a spot anywhere else.

As usual, Todhunter came by to pick up the Captain’s Caramel Coconut Latte as well as a plain espresso for himself, and two plain lattes for two other officers. This time, Lister had remembered the proper toppings and Rimmer had had no reason to scold him. Todhunter smiled when Lister gave him the takeaway tray and Lister smiled back.

“Any luck with the vending machines?” asked Lister.

“I’m afraid not,” replied Todhunter. “We’ve got A-shift working on them now, but they still can’t get the voice recognition software to work. I’m afraid you boys will be here for another few hours yet.”

“We’ll manage,” replied Lister. “Good luck.”

“Same to you.”

Once Todhunter left with his order, there were no other customers in the shop. Lister checked his dupe pad for the next set of orders and saw Rimmer glaring at him.

“What?”

“You think you’ll get anywhere simping up to Todhunter?”

Lister could not believe this. 

“I wasn’t simping! I was just being nice to him. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

Rimmer actually looked hurt.

“I am nice.”

Lister snorted. “Calling me a goit and a gimboid all the time is your idea of being nice?”

“I never meant anything by it! You’re just being oversensitive.”

“Me, oversensitive?” Lister’s voice rose. “Look in the mirror!”

Rimmer slammed down the cup he was washing.

“Well, I happen to think that I’ve been rather tolerant considering that you didn’t know the difference between a cappuccino and an espresso when you started. It hasn’t been easy training you from scratch.”

“That’s no excuse to be a smeghead about it,” Lister retorted.

“I have not been a smeghead!”

“You’re the biggest smeghead on this ship,” sneered Lister. “Everyone says it.”

“Shut up!”

“Small wonder you can’t get lucky.”

Rimmer’s face went white. Lister knew he had crossed the line and was about to apologize when another voice interrupted the conversation.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Lister turned and there was Kochanski. She had seen him arguing with Rimmer. Not only that, she had seen him taunt Rimmer about his lack of a sex life. Lister wanted nothing more than to disappear into the floor. Still, he dredged up a smile from the depths and took her order. Rimmer made her cappuccino without a word. Once she was gone, Lister tried to talk to Rimmer.

“I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have said that.”

Rimmer kept washing the dishes, avoiding looking at Lister. “Sorry because Kochanski saw you say it?”

Lister sighed and stood beside him to help dry them. “That’s not the point. I never should have said that to you. Besides, she’s dating Bevens right now.”

Tim Bevens was a chef who was head of his station and was a Petty Officer, First Class. He was a only Petty Officer, Fourth Class. She would never look at him the way he looked at her. 

“Well that makes it all better,” sneered Rimmer.

“Look I really mean it,” replied Lister. “We’ve got smeg knows how many hours left in this tiny coffee shop together. Let’s not spend the rest of them stewing at each other.”

Rimmer put down the dishes and looked at Lister.

“All right, but you’re doing all the wiping down and mopping.”

Rimmer was true to his word. He made Lister wipe down all the tables and mop the floor. Lister did it all with no complaints. The first miners off day shift would begin to drift in soon and they would be back in the smeg. The least Lister could do was to get everything ready. 

8 p.m. came and the miners off day shift packed the shop. They were the ones who couldn’t get a spot in the Canteens or the bars or restaurants, which were also packed thanks to the vending machine failure, and were none too cheerful about it. All thoughts of their stupid fight earlier were forgotten as Lister and Rimmer tried to keep up with their orders and endure the miners’ insults at the same time.

“Where’s my coffee, smeghead?”

“Where the smeg is my sandwich and donut, you lazy goits?”

“Hey ladies, maybe if you had a real job, you’d hurry up and do it right.”

That last one was said by a muscle-bound blond with a large mustache sitting at the largest table with his cronies. They all laughed as he said this. Lister spat in his drink first chance he got. Any retort would just risk him getting a reprimand or sacked. Rimmer said nothing, but Lister noticed that he grilled everyone else’s sandwich before his. The blond and his cronies continued with their oh-so-witty commentary. Even as the other men and women sitting at the other tables glared at him, he continued to berate them.

“Hey, get on with it, you filthy ponces! How hard is it to grill a fucking panini?”

It was grilling as he spoke. In the meantime, Rimmer was busy pouring yet another enormous order of takeaway coffee for the miners on night shift. Lister grabbed the panini and took it over to the blond smeghead, barely managing not to slam it down onto the table.

“Here you go, _sir_.”

The blond looked up. “Took your time about it.” He took a bite and spat it out.

“It’s burned! Make me another one.”

Lister knew it wasn’t burned, but no arguing allowed. He put another one on the grill for the asshole, this time letting it sit for a minute less. Rimmer was still filling the night shift’s orders so Lister was the lucky one who got to take it out to him again. 

The blond smeghead took another bite and spat it out again.

“This one’s cold. I want a refund.”

Lister struggled to hold his temper in check and not punch the stupid git in his face.

“Come to the counter and Rimmer here can refund you the cost of the sandwich.”

“I want my whole meal refunded.”

Of course he did. He was one of those.

“I’m sorry, sir. He can only refund you the sandwich.”

“That’s bullshit!”

Rimmer came up behind Lister.

“So sorry, sir. JMC policy. Give me your card and I’ll process your refund right away.”

“Just accept the bloody refund, Jenkins,” called out a woman from another table.

“Yeah, we’re hungry, too,” called out a man from the table next to them.

Jenkins ignored them.

“Give me my full refund, you fucking faggots!”

The coffee shop fell silent and tension filled the air. Rimmer was the first to reply.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave now. We will credit the refund to your account. Good day to you.”

Jenkins didn’t look as though he wanted to leave, but a man sitting by himself at the corner table stood up. He was wider and taller than everyone else in the shop put together. He walked over and glared down at Jenkins. 

“Get out.”

Jenkins and his cronies practically ran out of the shop in their hurry to leave. Lister smiled gratefully at their rescuer. 

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem. I just want to drink my bloody coffee in peace.”

No one complained when Lister bumped his order up first and gave him extra sprinkles on his Peppermint Mocha. After everyone else had their orders and Rimmer was finished processing that asshole’s refund, Lister took one look at him and they went to the back.

Lister took out the green tablets, and offered one to Rimmer.

“Caffeine was not enough for that.”

“All right, but stick to one for now.”

“Yes, Mummy.”

If Lister and Rimmer seemed far more alert once they left the back, no one commented on it. The miners all needed extra help at times, too. The hours continued to wear on. Day shift left, but they still had the endless orders of takeaway coffee to process from the night shift, technicians and officers on duty. As soon as one order was finished, another came in from Holly or someone on break and before Lister knew it, it was midnight, and still the vending machines were not fixed. Even with another tablet, it was still hard to take. 

“We’ve been here for twelve hours now,” said Lister as he wiped down the tables yet again. 

“And we’ll be here for the rest of the night,” said Rimmer. “Captain Hollister needs his lattes for the duration.”

Lister snickered. Then, disaster struck. He tried to mix a drink, but the espresso machine would not turn on. He called Rimmer over, but he could not get it to work either. They tried everything, but nothing worked. In the end, Rimmer had to tell Holly that the espresso machine was broken and ask him if anyone could be spared to fix it. 

“I’ll see what I can do. Everyone’s busy with the vending machines.”

“Just do it, you goit.”

“I’m a what?”

“Sorry about him,” said Lister quickly. “It’s just been a long day.”

“Apology accepted,” said Holly. “Let me see. Looks like the only ones free are Z-shift. I’ll send them right away.”

Then, the screen went blank and Rimmer groaned.

“What’s the matter? At least we’re getting somebody.”

“Lister, we’re getting Z-shift. They’re outranked by the person who changes the bog roll. It’s where all the washouts and losers end up.”

“Chen and Selby are on Z-shift.”

Rimmer gave him a look. “Exactly.”

In the end, it took three hours for Chen and Selby to show up with their toolkit. They were smiling as they strolled in through the door.

“Where the smeg have you been?” said Rimmer half-hysterical. In spite of how many times Holly had told everyone else that they were only serving drip coffee, people still asked them when the machine would be fixed. It was enough to drive any sane person mad, let alone Rimmer.

Selby smirked at him. 

“It takes a long time to get here when you’re woken in the middle of the night, _sir_.”

Lister looked up from the drinks he was preparing.

“Look, can you guys just get started? It’s been a long day for the both of us.”

Chen shrugged. “All right. If you say so.”

They got to work, but they didn’t exactly take it seriously. Their laughter and jokes began to grate on Lister. He wasn’t the only one. Rimmer’s lips were a thin line as he prepared the drink orders. It was slow now thank smeg so Lister took the chance to wipe the tables down again, something Chen and Selby did not fail to notice.

“Must be nice to be paid to wipe tables.”

Something in Lister snapped. After everything else, this was what got him. He threw the cleaning rag and slammed the spray bottle on the table. Then he looked right at them and yelled.

“We have been here for over fifteen hours now serving coffee on this smegging ship! We’re going to be here for smeg knows how much longer because the vending machines you lot were supposed to fix have gone on the fritz!”

They stopped joking and looked up, astonished. Even Rimmer stopped working and looked at him. Lister kept going, unable to stop now that he had let loose. 

“Easy? You call this job easy? We’ve been on our feet all day! We’ve been called ponces and faggots just for doing our smegging jobs so for smeg’s sake just shut up and fix the damn espresso machine!”

“Steady on, man!” said Selby. “We’ll get it fixed.”

Lister stopped yelling and glared at them. For a moment, he was angry enough to hit someone and they all knew it. Chen flinched. Lister then glared at Rimmer, expecting him to be smirking. Instead, he actually had the nerve to look worried.

“Lister…”

Lister felt the heat rise to his face, “I’m going in the back. I need a smegging break.”

Then, he turned around and slammed the back door open. Then, he sat on the floor, leaning his head against the bags. Smeg, he needed a cigarette. Or another green tablet. However, before he could take one, Rimmer came in and joined him. Lister glared up at him.

“Don’t you have drink orders to fill?”

“All done,” replied Rimmer. “Everything else can wait.”

“That doesn’t sound like you. Don’t you always insist that the customer comes first?”

“There are no customers now. Even night shift’s taken a break.”

Then, Rimmer sat beside him.

“You’re the one concerning me now. This isn’t like you.”

Lister scowled. 

“Stop pretending you’re concerned about my well-being. Don’t worry. I’ll get up and get back out there like a good little worker bee.”

He hoped that would annoy him, but Rimmer still looked concerned.

“Actually, I was going to send you back to the bunkroom for a few hours R & R. I can manage until opening.”

Lister looked at him. Rimmer offering to send him back to the bunkroom early was like snow that stayed white in Liverpool. Such a thing never happened. He felt his anger abate as he really looked at Rimmer and noticed the dark circles under his eyes and how he fought to cover a yawn. It had been a long night for him, too.

“No, I’ll stay,” he replied. “I’d best apologize to Chen and Selby.”

“They deserved it,” Rimmer replied. 

“Still, should apologize. Want a tablet?”

Rimmer demurred, but Lister wore him down. Rimmer was just about to take one when the door to the front opened and in stepped Todhunter. Rimmer leapt up, giving Todhunter his usual ridiculous salute. Lister stashed the tablets into a pocket, and stood up slowly. What now?

Todhunter waited for them and pretended not to notice as Lister stashed the tablets out of sight. Then, he smiled.

“I have good news for you both. Four of the beverage machines are back online now and more are coming back every hour. You’re free to close up and go.”

Lister stared, not entirely believing it. Todhunter kept talking.

“Also, since the espresso machine requires repairs beyond what Z-shift can provide, Hawkins and I have agreed that the coffee shop will remain closed until the day after tomorrow. That should be sufficient time to get it fixed.”

Two days off? It seemed far too good to be true. 

“Are you serious, sir?”

Rimmer looked appalled at Lister’s forwardness, but Todhunter just kept smiling.

“Dead serious, Lister. By the way, looks like you dropped some of your cough medicine.”

Lister looked down and there was a green tablet on the floor. He picked it up nonchalantly.

“Best not to leave that sort of thing around here. Good day to you both.”

Then he left them.

“That was close,” said Lister.

“Lucky for us he’s an idiot,” replied Rimmer. “Cough medicine? Really?”

However, Lister knew that Todhunter knew. He’d been giving them a warning and Lister had heard it even Rimmer had not. He’d flush those tablets down the next garbage chute he saw. 

“He’s not as dumb as you think. But never mind. Are Chen and Selby still out there?”

They were gone, but their toolkit was still there. 

“Typical,” muttered Rimmer.

They cleaned as best they could under the circumstances and then left, locking up the shop and putting the ‘closed’ sign out. Lister was never so happy to see Rimmer turn the key and lock the door in his life. 

By the time, they got back to their bunkroom it was 5 a.m. shiptime. By now, the effects of the pills were wearing off and both of them crashed. Which was how Lister found himself in Rimmer’s bunk.


	4. A Day of Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lister discovers many things that should be obvious.

When Lister woke up, he thought he was still high. Why else would he wake up to Rimmer’s sleeping face? However, once his senses kicked in, he realized that it was real and he was here lying in Rimmer’s bunk with Rimmer’s arms wrapped around him. Rimmer looked so calm and peaceful that it would be a shame to wake him. He just lay there letting his mind drift back to the morning before.

They had staggered their way from the coffee shop to the nearest lift, only stopping once so Lister could flush the tablets down a waste disposal vent. Rimmer had objected, saying that they should keep them for another time, but Lister had insisted on it. Todhunter had given them a reprieve and he had no intention of blowing it. He had flushed them all down without a second thought.

“What a waste of dollarpounds,” Rimmer had moaned.

“Yeah, my dollarpounds,” Lister had retorted. 

Mercifully, the arrival of the next lift had shut Rimmer up and they had spent the ride trying not to crash then and there. By the time they had reached the Catering Officer’s sleeping quarters, Lister was leaning against Rimmer and Rimmer likewise. An entire shift of drunken Petersens could have entered the lift and Lister would not have noticed a thing. Rimmer had had to poke him awake when they arrived at their floor. 

“Get up, you goit!”

Lister had managed that, but he had stumbled off the lift. A wave of dizziness had overtaken him and he almost fell. When Lister crashed, he crashed hard. Rimmer had had to catch him.

“What on Io is wrong with you?”

“Dizzy,” Lister had replied. He was feeling far too woozy to say anything more than that. 

Rimmer had just sighed.

“Fine. Lean on me and don’t you dare complain.”

Lister had leaned on Rimmer and had no reason to complain. It had felt good. Rimmer was the one who had grumbled the whole time they had walked back to their quarters. 

“Hurry up, you gimboid! You want the others to spot us?”

Lister had tried to hurry, but the dizziness would overtake him if he pushed it too hard. In the end, they had made their way slowly back to their sleeping quarters. No one else had seen them and they had slipped into their room without anyone noticing. 

However, when Lister had tried to climb up to his bunk, his head had spun and he had slipped off the first rung. Rimmer had sighed again.

“Get in my bunk. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Lister could not believe that he had heard those words. 

“You serious?”

“If you fall and have to go to medibay, they’ll know what you were on and you’ll be sacked at the next port. Get in.”

Lister had got into Rimmer’s bunk. Then, Rimmer had handed him a glass of water.

“Drink this. You’re dehydrated.”

Lister drank the water and it helped. Once he was done, he had started to get up, but Rimmer had pushed him back. 

“Oh no, miladdo. You need proper rest.”

Then, Rimmer had climbed in after him. It had been a tight fit.

“You could use mine,” Lister had offered.

“And sleep on your sheets that haven’t been washed since you arrived? No thank you, Listy. Besides, you need someone to monitor you.”

Lister was too tired to say anything else so he had fallen asleep, Rimmer lying next to him. 

Now he was awake and could hear Rimmer snoring, a sort of buzzing whine that would irritate him at any other time, but now he just found it endearing. Irritating as Rimmer was, he made Lister feel safe right now, something he had not felt since he had ended up on Mimas. 

Before he could continue this train of thought, Rimmer woke up, too. He started and withdrew his arms. Lister caught him before he could fall out of the bunk. 

“You okay, man? Remember last night?”

“I remember it better than you,” retorted Rimmer. “You just about passed out last night. I had to check your heartbeat to ensure you weren’t dead.”

“Last time I ever buy anything from Smith,” muttered Lister. Then, it hit him.

“You checked my heartbeat? Wouldn’t my pulse have done as well?”

Rimmer blushed. “I was too tired to think of it,” he snapped. “You weren’t the only one who worked all those hours.”

Now that Rimmer had told him, Lister could remember Rimmer’s hand on his chest. He’d thought that was all a dream. Lister did not know what to say. “Thank you” could not even begin to cover it. Rimmer continued to talk.

“Well, you’re all right now, aren’t you?”

“I’m okay,” he replied. “Just thirsty.”

(Even with the water Rimmer had given him, the combination of caffeine and amphetamines had not been kind to his body)

“That’s because you drink beer in lieu of water,” said Rimmer. “I tell you you need to drink some actual water, too, but do you ever listen?”

Lister rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Rimmer. I drank the one you gave me last night.”

“And do I hear a single word of thanks for it?”

This was getting ridiculous.

“Thank you, Rimmer. Not just for the glass of water, but also for letting me stay on your bunk and for everything else last night. You’re the best work friend a man could have.”

For a moment, Rimmer’s face crumpled before resuming its usual snidiness. Lister knew then.

“But then again, we aren’t just friends, are we, Rimmer?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” retorted Rimmer. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like my bunk back so I can fumigate and decontaminate it. Your bacteria have bacteria.”

“After you, smeghead.”

Lister let go and Rimmer fell to the floor.

“Damn goit,” muttered Rimmer as he sat up.

“Same to you,” retorted Lister. “Don’t worry. I’ll be out of your bed as soon as you get out of my way.”

What neither of them realized was that it was now half past four, the normal time Lister and Petersen joined Chen and Selby for a drinks at the Copacabana. Also, by now over eighty percent of the vending machines were back online now and therefore the rest the Catering staff that had been seconded were off work, Petersen among them. He went over to pick up Lister for a celebratory drink and barged into their room.

A horrible silence fell over all of them as Petersen took in the scene: Lister in Rimmer’s bunk, Rimmer on the floor, and both men blushing.

“This is new,” said Petersen.

“It’s not what you think!” Lister protested.

Petersen just snorted, turned around and walked out. Lister vaulted out of the bunk, over Rimmer and ran out after him. He caught up with him halfway down the corridor.

“Look, it’s not what you think. He was just being nice because I was too dizzy to climb to my own bunk. That’s it.”

Petersen just looked at him.

“He let you sleep on his bunk. The smeggiest, most anal prick on this ship let you sleep in his bunk. Seems simple to me.”

Petersen continued to talk. 

“I may not know much, but I know love. It’s how I knew to buy my place here on Triton. Love at first sketch, man.”

“So, you’re saying he fancies me?”

Petersen just looked at him. 

“Go back to him, Dave and sort it out. The others’ll understand.”

“Will they really?”

“They saw the way he looked at you last night.”

Lister barely heard Petersen as he ran back to the bunkroom. When he pushed open the door, Rimmer looked startled to see him.

“Shouldn’t you be at the Copacabana with all your other smeggy friends?”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

“What about?”

He looked Rimmer right in the eye.

“I never thanked you properly for what you did for me last night.”

“Well, I hardly call you throwing me out of my bed and running off proper thanks.”

“I agree,” replied Lister.

Rimmer was so stunned he dropped the dirty sheets he was holding.

“You agree with me?”

Lister walked over to him.

“I do.”

Then, before Rimmer could say anything else, Lister pulled him down for a kiss. Rimmer froze for a moment before relaxing into it. Smeg, he tasted good. Far better than Lister could have ever imagined. They only broke away for air.

“This enough thanks for you?”

“Cheeky bastard,” said Rimmer, but without any venom. “It’s not nearly enough.”

Lister grinned up at him. “You want more?”

This time it was Rimmer who pulled him in, his hand gripping the back of Lister’s locks. It wasn’t especially gentle, but Lister didn’t mind. His own hands were wrapped around Rimmer’s body. He could feel his heart beat as they kissed again. This time, Rimmer was the aggressive one and Lister let him taste him properly. They only stopped when Rimmer stiffened (and not the good way).

“What’s wrong now?”

Rimmer sagged. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not? You’re not dating Yvonne McGruder in secret are you?”

(He and Yvonne had had an infamous liaison a few months ago right around the time Rimmer broke down.)

“Of course not, gimboid. She left the ship at Miranda.”

“Then what? I’m not seeing anyone.”

“What about Kochanski?”

“What about her?”

“Don’t you have a massive crush on her?”

Lister shook his head. “Not anymore.”

It was true. Kochanski was still attractive, of course, but he did not want her anymore. Rimmer still looked skeptical so Lister continued to talk.

“I wish her and Bevens all the greatest happiness. However, she’s not the one who watched over me last night. You are.”

Rimmer sighed. “It’s still wrong.”

“What’s wrong?”

Rimmer looked at him the same way he had looked at him when Lister had asked him who would get angry if he did not take his exam. Then, Lister understood.

“Your family won’t approve?”

Rimmer’s face fell and he pushed Lister away. Lister knew he was right.

“If they could see us now…”

“But they can’t,” replied Lister. “Who gives a smeg?”

“Because everyone else is a success. I’m the only failure.”

Now Lister was getting angry, but not at him. He took Rimmer’s hands into his.

“You’re not a failure. This isn’t a crime.”

“It is on Io.”

“What? You mean two men is illegal there?”

“Not criminally, but socially? It’s suicide.”

Lister stared at him. He had heard some of the Outer Rim moons could be conservative, but he had never imagined anything as bad as that.

“Their opinion isn’t worth the smeg on your sheets. We’re not on Io anymore. People here don’t care.”

“That’s not true of everybody.”

Lister knew he was thinking of Jenkins and his cronies from last night.

“They’re assholes. Who gives a smeg what they think?”

Rimmer looked away. He did not say it, but Lister knew.

“They’re the losers, not us. You really want to be like them?”

“Well, not really.”

“Then what?”

“Promise me you won’t laugh?”

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a Space Scout.”

“Principle’s the same. I promise you no matter how ridiculous, I won’t laugh at you.”

Rimmer took a deep breath, clung Lister’s hands back in return, and looked him right in the eye.

“I’m nervous.”

Lister almost laughed from sheer relief, but caught it just in time.

“You think you’re the only one? I’ve never done this either. Not with a man.”

Rimmer looked stunned. “Never? But you’re so, so-“

“Sexy?” said Lister with a grin.

“Appealing,” replied Rimmer. 

“I flirted a bit in my sham-glam days, but that’s it. Other than that, I’ve only ever been with women.”

Rimmer finally relaxed. Lister let go of his hands and caressed his cheek. 

“We’re exploring this together, if you’re in.”

Rimmer took another breath and then he spoke. 

“I divorced my parents when I was fourteen. They can fume all they like, but they can’t stop us now. I’m in.”

Lister smiled. “Brutal! Now, where were we?”

“Kissing, I believe, but we should lock the door first, unless you want Petersen or one of your other chums barging in again?”

Lister dropped his hand. “Smeg, I forgot! Holly, is the door locked?”

They were both relieved when Holly told them it was locked.

“Guess I should give you two some privacy. Say, for the next few hours?”

“Make it tomorrow, too,” said Lister. “We’ve got that off, too.”

Holly winked at them. “All right then, dudes. Happy exploring.”

Then the screen went off and they were truly alone together. Lister turned to Rimmer with a grin. 

“Now, where were we again?”

Rimmer refused to start kissing again on a pile of dirty sheets or his bare mattress so they settled for the couch. With Lister’s pilfered pillows, it was comfortable enough for both of them. However, Rimmer insisted on moving the Asterix comic to his desk and straightening the pillows first. 

“Try explaining that to the librarian. Besides, it’ll be better if we don’t have to rearrange anything. ”

Lister felt like rolling his eyes, but he complied. If that would help him relax, so be it. At last, Rimmer was ready and they sat on the couch together. This time, they both had their arms around the other’s body, kissing each other as though they never wanted to let go. Lister was the one to break away.

“Lister, what-“

Rimmer stopped when Lister began to kiss him down his neck. Smeg, how he could he have imagined being with anyone else? The way Rimmer moaned as he kissed him down his neck was enough to drive him mad. Lister only stopped when he reached his shirt.

“This needs to come off. Should I?”

“Smeg, yes!” said Rimmer, almost gasping it out. 

Lister undid each button slowly and deliberately, savouring the moment. Rimmer groaned.

“Please.”

Once it was off, Lister admired his chest. It was skinny, but well formed and his nipples stood to attention. Lister got right to work, first licking one nipple and then the other, savouring them each in their turn. The noises Rimmer made ought to be illegal. 

Lister felt himself growing hard and he wasn’t the only one. He could feel Rimmer’s bulge hardening underneath him and let his fingers drift down there to wind Rimmer up even more. He felt Rimmer’s fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt before giving it up and just ripping it off him. Lister hadn’t washed it that much so it was easy to do. Once that was done, Rimmer pushed him back on the couch.

“Rimmer, what the smeg?”

Lister’s question was answered when Rimmer began to rub his hard groin against Lister’s. Even through their trousers, Lister could feel his cock rubbing against Rimmer’s and now he was the one moaning. He lost all rational thought as Rimmer pinned him to the couch and drove him to the brink. Rimmer came soon after, only stopping once Lister came, too. Rimmer collapsed on top of him and Lister made no move to push him off, enjoying the warmth of his body. He wrapped his arms around Rimmer and drew him in closer so he could feel his heart beat. Rimmer was the first to speak.

“That was…”

“…smegging amazing,” filled in Lister. 

“Though I’m afraid I’ve made rather a mess of your shirt.”

Lister laughed. “I’ve got others. Pay me back?”

Rimmer rolled off him and they both sat up again. 

“And how would you like me to do that, miladdo?”

Lister grinned wickedly. “I have several ways. After all, we’ve got lots of time.”

This day, and tomorrow would be ones to remember.


	5. The Days Before Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rimmer shares some things about his past and Lister shows his romantic side.

By the time they went back to work, everyone knew that they were together. At least, all of Catering knew, thanks to Petersen. Before they re-opened the coffee shop, Lister went to get some more bags of coffee from the Catering supplies. Jergens, the man at the supply counter, gave him a lusty wink. 

“Got lucky, eh?”

“Very lucky indeed,” Lister replied with a grin of his own. Some teasing was only to be expected. It would die down soon enough.

However, that was not how Rimmer saw it when he told him about it.

“How dare he!”

Lister sighed. “Rimmer, he was just teasing. He wasn’t even insulting us.”

Rimmer threw on a couple of pots to brew. “People should keep their comments to themselves.”

“We’re on a mining ship at the edge of the solar system. 1,169 of us are all stuck on board together. Most of our days are spent at work. Anybody getting together makes for some good gossip. It won’t last too long.”

Rimmer stiffened up. “Not everyone will see it that way.”

Lister came up behind him and took him by the arm. 

“Hey, if anyone has a problem, they’ll have me to answer to. I’m not letting anyone ruin this.”

Rimmer still would not look at him so Lister got closer.

“I defended myself back on Earth when I needed to. I can handle a few idiots here.”

Finally, Rimmer looked at him. “Don’t you go looking for trouble,” but he also smiled. If Lister had to guess, no one had ever offered to defend the smeghead before. 

“I won’t have to when you’re around,” he replied with a grin.

“Cheeky,” replied Rimmer with a grin of his own. “Come on, opening’s in ten minutes.”

And so the days passed for them. They went to work during the day. After work, sometimes they would go to the Copacabana with the others. The first time they had gone, Chen had turned to Selby.

“I was right. You owe me a beer.”

“What’s this all about?”

It turned out that Chen and Selby had a bet going. The bet was whether Lister also liked Rimmer or whether it was just Rimmer who liked him. Rimmer had spluttered and even Lister had found it offensive.

“I take back whatever apology I was going to give you two.”

“Consider us even then.” Selby had replied. “After all, you yelled at us. Relax and have a beer.”

In the end, even Rimmer had had a beer. True, it was a Kronenberg Blanc, but it was still a beer. Petersen of all people had recommended it. 

“Good starter beer, that one.”

Rimmer had sipped it as thought it might bite him, but then he had relaxed. He’d even ordered another before they had left. Lister wasn’t the only one who was hungover the next day. Good thing they had access to plenty of coffee.

Lister had threatened jokingly to put him on report for drinking JMC property. Rimmer had just glared at him over his double espresso.

“Do that and you’re not getting any tonight.”

“Same to you, smeghead.”

The nights were all theirs and how glorious they were. Lister could not recall the last time he had had that much sex. True, they were still sticking to frot and handjobs for now, but it was still nothing to sneeze at. There was definitely something to be said for dating a repressed virgin. It took a lot for Rimmer to relax, but when he did, it was like nothing Lister had ever seen before.

However, all honeymoon periods must come to an end and for them, Christmas was what brought it on. Six weeks into their relationship, the ship’s calendar changed over to December. It happened on one of their days off. Rimmer scowled when he saw it.

“What’s up with you?” Lister asked.

“It’s December. It’s _Christmas_.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Rimmer kept scowling. “Everything.”

“It’s the best time of the year!”

Rimmer just looked at him. “Not for Catering. Who do you think serves everyone their Christmas dinner? The skutters?”

“Even us?”

“They always need extra waiters and guess who gets seconded?”

“Us? But can’t we ask for the time off?”

Rimmer laughed. “Only if you ask a year in advance. I take it you haven’t?”

Lister checked their assignments with Holly, and sure enough, both of them were scheduled to work the Christmas Day banquet. Lister groaned. 

“Still,” said Holly. “At least you lads have Boxing Day off. Catering usually has quite the party then.”

Lister cheered right up. “Hey, we get a party, too.”

“It’s a drunken bacchanalia.”

“Sounds like my kind of party.”

“It’s not mine. Christmas is just another excuse for fools to overspend.”

“It’s my favourite holiday.”

“Sorry you’ve been brainwashed by advertisers.”

No matter how Lister cajoled him, Rimmer remained grumpy. At last, Lister gave up.

“If you’re going to be like that, I‘m going to the Botanical Gardens. Follow me if you decide to extract your head out of your arse.”

“Enjoy your time with Nutkin the Squirrel.”

Lister stalked off in a huff. He’d forgotten just what a smeghead Rimmer could be. And over Christmas of all things. Lister had been looking forward to sharing it with Rimmer. However, it did not look as though that was about to happen. Lister sat on a bench and watched as the squirrels hopped from branch to branch.

“Bet you lot don’t have troubles with a Grinch.”

Eventually, Rimmer came and joined him. Lister ignored him. He could be the first to speak for once. 

“Nice place,” said Rimmer finally.

Lister stayed silent. Rimmer checked to see if anyone else was around and then put his hand on Lister’s.

“Look, can we talk somewhere private?”

Lister finally looked at him.

“You going to apologize?”

“In a way,” said Rimmer. “I ought to explain a few things, but I don’t want to do it here.”

That was as good as he was going to get.

“Fine. Let’s head to the Observation Dome.”

The Observation Dome was empty as most people were at work. The novelty of seeing the stars had long since worn off and the ship was stationary so the view did not change. Most came here now because it was one of the few places where Holly did not have a screen so this was as much privacy as anyone could get. Those in the dome could also hear anyone else coming up long before the other person knew they were there. That was the reason Lister had chosen it. Whatever Rimmer had to tell him, Lister did not wish for it to be broadcast to the entire ship. 

They stood there together for a few moments before Rimmer spoke. 

“What does Christmas mean to you?”

It took Lister a few moments to answer.

“It’s when everyone gets together, gives presents and everyone’s happy. It’s when I can watch ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’, my favourite film of all time. Even at the orphanage, they always tried to give us a good time.”

He was still annoyed with Rimmer, but he softened a bit when he saw Rimmer smile.

“Sounds lovely (then a shadow passed over his face), but that’s not what Christmas has ever been for me.”

Rimmer looked away. Lister gave him a few moments to speak before realizing he would have to prompt him. He both did and did not want to hear what Rimmer would have to say. 

“What does Christmas mean to you, Arnold?”

Rimmer looked startled at the use of his given name. It had just felt right to Lister. He hoped that it wasn’t a mistake. Rimmer sighed.

“You know how I told you I divorced my parents when I was fourteen? I had my reasons and Christmas with them was one of them. For me, Christmas dinner meant serving everyone else while I starved.”

Even with knowing it would be bad, Lister could hardly believe his ears.

“They starved you? But why?”

“At every meal at home, Father would ask us astronavigation questions. Get it wrong, no food. On special occasions, the person who got the fewest right also had to serve dinner to the rest of the family. That was supposed to motivate us to revise properly. Of course, it was always me who got stuck with that duty.”

Lister’s hands balled into fists. If anyone from Rimmer’s family showed up at this very moment, he would happily punch the living daylights out of them.

“I had to stand in the dining room and serve them the whole time while they ate a four-course dinner. If I was lucky, they would leave me alone to clear the table and I could sneak some of the leftovers. If I was unlucky, Father would watch me the whole time I cleared the table and I wouldn’t be able to eat a single scrap without getting a beating. My brothers always found that quite amusing.”

Lister could just imagine it now: a young Arnold trying to sneak a bite to eat and then his father catching him and beating him while his other brothers laughed. The very thought of it made him feel sick. 

“As for presents? Just socks, underpants and revision books for the likes of Arnie J. I wasn’t considered worthy of any other gifts. I got to clean up the wrapping paper while they admired each other’s gifts. Once that was done, back to my room for me until they needed me to serve dinner.”

By now, he almost looked ready to cry. Lister reached out to him and took his hands. 

“I’m glad you divorced them. Between your family and the orphanage, I’d take the orphanage any day. I said it before and I’ll say it again. Your family isn’t worth the smeg on your sheets.”

Rimmer looked astonished. “You believe me?”

“Of course I believe you!”

He laughed, but it wasn’t a happy laugh.

“No one else did. They all thought I was lying for attention.”

Lister may have thought that once, but no more. 

“What about after you divorced them?”

“Christmas was just another reminder of what I didn’t have. I never got invited to dinner so I spent the rest of them on my own. Then, I came here and I was back to work serving others their meal at Christmas.”

Lister winced. When put like that, it did sound bad.

“Couldn’t you ask for the day off?”

“And miss my opportunity to serve officers and get a promotion? Not a chance.”

Here was all this smeg again.

“Arnold, nobody will promote you just because you served them dinner. Anyone who claims otherwise is just yanking your chain.”

Rimmer laughed again.

“You know the funniest part? I haven’t even got a chance to serve them yet, and I almost don’t care. I already dread the day I need to start a new revision timetable.”

“Then don’t,” said Lister. “I don’t care.”

“But I do,” he replied. 

Lister sighed. This was one argument he was far from winning yet. It was a miracle Rimmer had come as far as he did. Lister decided to change the subject. 

“Do you have any good memories from Christmas? Or is it all bad?”

Rimmer smiled. “I have one good memory. I was fifteen and it was my first December after I had divorced my parents. The weekend before Christmas, I went to a bookshop and got a copy of Caesar’s _Gallic Wars_. Nobody was going to destroy it or take it away from me. Then I went to a teashop and had a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits. I savoured every one of them.”

Now Lister was the one who wanted to cry. Just how stifling had his life been that such a simple thing was one of his few happy memories? Then, Lister had an idea.

“There’s a bookshop on board, right?”

“A small one, but it does exist. It's on Deck 45.”

“Let’s go there and each pick out a book. The other can buy it as an early Christmas present. Fifteen-dollarpound limit. How does that sound?”

Now Rimmer looked puzzled. “It sounds nice, but why would we do that? You don’t read books.”

“I read graphic novels.”

“Asterix doesn’t count.”

“It does too. The only reason they don’t call the albums ‘graphic novels’ is that the term didn’t exist back when the books were first released.”

“Whatever. It’s not a Christmas tradition so why would you want to do it?”

“The point is to make a new tradition,” said Lister. “To make new memories. Sound good to you?”

“All right. But you had better pick something other than _The Zero-G Kama Sutra for Gay Men_ or anything else of that nature.”

“So long as you don’t expect me to buy a copy of _I Did It the Reich Way_.”

“I already have a copy of that.”

“I know you do.”

In the end, Lister picked out _Asterix and the Chieftain’s Shield_, something which Rimmer raised his eyes at.

“It’s a twentieth-century classic,” replied Lister. “What did you pick?”

Rimmer had an enormous hardcover in his hand. He looked at it reverently. 

“A copy of the definitive biography of Napoleon. It was in the remainder bin. Can you believe no one else wanted it?”

“Yes,” muttered Lister.

Still he bought it for Rimmer, just as Rimmer bought the Asterix book for him. Afterwards, they went to the teashop on Deck 43. The teashop was more popular with the ordinary staff and thus larger than the coffee shop, and they were able to get a table. Unlike the coffee shop, it was staffed mostly by women who also worked as bartenders, and there was no takeaway. (The teashop closed around 2 p.m., lucky sods). Lister recognized Sally and he waved to her. She came over and took their order. 

“How’s it going, boys?”

“Very well,” replied Lister. “Anything you’d recommend?”

In the end, they shared a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits. Sally added a couple of extra biscuits and a pair of petit fours to their plate. 

“Thanks,” said Lister.

“No problem,” she replied. “Thanks to you two, back when the vending machines failed, we were able to close the teashop and go to our bartending shifts. If you hadn’t been open, we would have had to stay here.”

Both Lister and Rimmer knew that the teashop was considered a bum job with poor tips compared to the bartending shifts. 

“It was no trouble,” replied Lister before Rimmer could say anything. A little white lie never hurt. “Thanks for the biscuits and cakes.”

Then, they were left alone to share them and Lister was as happy as he had ever been. If you had told him when he first arrived that he would be in the ship's teashop on a date and happy about it, he would have expired from laughter. Yet, here he was drinking tea with Rimmer and enjoying it. They stayed until fifteen minutes to closing. Rimmer was as happy as he had ever seen him and Lister felt smug, knowing that his idea had worked. 

The rest of December flew by. They were busy in the coffee shop thanks to all the special Christmas drinks they were required to sell by the JMC. The worst part was all the extensive toppings they required. Lister had to throw away more than one drink because he got them wrong yet again.

“I’m beginning to see why you hate Christmas,” he said after one particularly trying day. 

Rimmer had smiled. He was smiling a lot more these days. 

“Just wait until the banquet.”

“Can’t wait.”

To Lister’s surprise, Chen and Selby had volunteered to serve at the banquet.

“What do we want to sit with a bunch of perfumed smegheads for? Besides, everyone knows that the real party is the one Catering throws. This way, we get to come, too.”

“You mean you want to drink yourselves silly,” Rimmer had said.

Selby had just shrugged. ‘Why not? It’s Christmas.”

The Saturday before Christmas, Lister, Rimmer and all the other lucky waiter recruits got to attend a special session in Canteen 3 led by the Hawk. The first thing she did was hand them their uniforms. 

“Try them on and be quick about it.”

Everyone went to the back and stripped off, men and women together. If you wanted to work in Catering, you learned not to care about that sort of thing. Even Rimmer, who was usually a prude outside the bunkroom, changed along with the rest of them. Lister snickered when he saw how they all looked in their black trousers, white dress shirts and black clip-on bowties.

“We look like a bunch of smegging penguins!”

Rimmer threw him a look. “Get used to it, miladdo. The banquet’s over three hours long.”

“You serious?” said Selby. Nobody looked right as a waiter, not even Rimmer, but those two were particularly incongruous. They looked as though they had had been taken off a dock and shoved into waiter’s uniforms. Which wasn’t all that far from the truth. 

“Of course. Captain Hollister needs to make his Christmas speeches after all.”

“Smeg help us,” muttered Chen. 

“Come on. Our commanding officer is waiting for us.”

They all rolled their eyes at Rimmer’s pomposity, but it never did do to keep the Hawk waiting. Once they were all out on the floor, the Hawk had them all line up and she inspected them. Not a single flaw escaped her scrutiny. When she got to Lister, she scowled.

“Tuck that shirt in, and tie your locks back. Also, what are those on your feet?”

Lister was wearing his best black boots. In fact, they were his only shoes. The Hawk scowled.

“You’re supposed to wear dress shoes. You’ll need to purchase some from Supplies.”

“I have to purchase them? Can’t I just borrow or rent some?”

She gave him a withering look. “There is no shoe rental service on board. Submit an expense report. It’s a work cost so you’ll be compensated in full. Hair ties should be in your pocket.”

Lister reached into the pocket, found the hair tie and tied his locks back hastily. Two others did the same, all hoping to avoid her wrath. Once he’d tucked his shirt in, she moved onto new targets. Only Rimmer and two other old-timers avoided criticism. They had learned. 

Their turn was about to come, though. She called them to the front to help her demonstrate how to carry heavy trays without dropping or spilling anything. They would not be expected to serve each individual person their food (except for special orders), thank smeg, but they were still expected to bring the platters out and take their drink orders. Lister just watched Rimmer as he showed them how to carry a tray of drinks, ignoring the other two. Smeg, he was graceful. 

Lister soon regretted that when he had to practice carrying a platter on food, almost dropping the frozen turkey on the floor. That thing must have weighed at least half a stone. 

“What’s wrong with goose for Christmas?” he muttered. Unfortunately, the Hawk heard him.

“Problem, Lister?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“Good. You can demonstrate how to carry a turkey to the others.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

At least he did not drop it that time. Rimmer gave him an encouraging smile, which almost made up for it. After everyone had shown enough competence not to drop the trays, she gave them all their assignments. They were assigned into four different groups based on seniority and competence. Rimmer was assigned to Group A. Lister, Chen and Selby were assigned to Group D with most of the other newbies.

“Group A will be serving the officers, Group B the senior support staff, Group C the senior miners, and Group D the junior miners and support staff. Any objections?”

None were forthcoming. 

“Good. Here are the drink orders.”

Thankfully, they had a limited number of drinking orders to memorize codes for. Chen and Selby grumbled, but it was fewer drinks than Lister served in his normal workday so it did not trouble him. 

“As a final note,” the Hawk said, “Everyone has an extra wash water ration on Christmas Day. Use it wisely. Dismissed.”

Rimmer was by far the happiest person there as they all changed back into normal clothes. 

“What’s got you so cheerful?”

“Twelve years in and I finally get to serve the officers at Christmas!”

Some of the others closest to them snickered, but Lister glared at them and they stopped.

“Why so long?”

“It’s usually the full-time wait staff who get that job,” said Rimmer. “Lucky bastards.”

Lister was not so sure they were lucky, but he knew better than to argue with Rimmer on that score. He dredged up a smile. 

“That’s great, Rimmer.”

He sincerely hoped he was getting some tonight.


	6. Christmas Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas day arrives and so does the banquet. However, afterwards is when the real fun begins.

Christmas day dawned just like any other day on Red Dwarf. The simulated dawn light shone in. The only difference was that it happened at 8 a.m. instead of 5 a.m. All the restaurants were closed in anticipation for the banquet, leaving them a chance to have a lie in. For once, Lister was the first to wake. Their presents had not arrived yet so he went to grab some coffee for the both of them. By the time he got back, Rimmer was also awake. He handed him his coffee.

“Merry Christmas, Arnold.”

Rimmer accepted the coffee with a smile.

“Thank you, Dave. Have our presents arrived yet?”

Their presents were waiting for them just outside their door. That was how they always did it on the ships: the presents would go to a central supply station and then be delivered in by techs on overtime. Rimmer seemed shocked that he had presents from people other than Lister. Chen, Selby and Petersen had given him presents, too. 

“Why would they?”

“Because they like you, smeghead?”

Ever since Rimmer had stopped being such a colossal smeghead and started hanging out with the others, he’d got on rather well all things considered. 

“Not the way, I do, of course, but just as a friend.”

Rimmer rolled his eyes. 

“Let’s just open them, shall we?”

Chen and Selby had given them each a bottle of Mimasian gin, a gin so potent not even Lister would drink it neat. Petersen had capped off the drink presents by giving Lister a six-pack of Glen Fujiyama whiskey, and giving Rimmer a six-pack of Kronenbergs with a note not to drink them all at once. 

“Fat chance of that,” said Rimmer. “What do they expect us to do, drink it all by New Years?”

Lister knew that Petersen could have drunk the whole lot by then without noticing, but he chose not to say anything. All that was left was the gifts they had gotten for each other. The one Rimmer had gotten for him looked suspiciously tape-like. Lister opened it with some trepidation. His jaw dropped when he saw what it was. Rimmer had gotten him a copy of _Big Boys In Boots_, the first gay porno shot aboard a space station back at the end of the 21st century. Physical copies were hard to find these days. 

“You cunning smeghead. How’d you get your hands on this?”

“I traded Rachel for it. No, don’t ask me who.”

Lister would have to ask later. He watched as Rimmer opened his present. Lister hoped that he would like it. Lister had gotten him a set of nice pencil crayons and a sketchpad. From the little bits had Rimmer had told about his past since that day in the observation dome, one of the few things he had enjoyed was colouring. Lister hoped that this would encourage him. Rimmer opened it in silence.

“Do you like it?”

Rimmer said nothing. He simply hugged Lister instead, taking him in a tight bear hug.

“Easy, man!”

“Thank you,” he whispered before letting Lister go. 

“No problem. Let’s say we watch that tape?”

“We have to work today.”

“Not until later. Banquet doesn’t start until three.”

“We have to be there by two, and we have to shower first.”

Now it was Lister’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“We still have what, four or five hours before that? We’ve got loads of time.”

Lister let his fingers dance on Rimmer’s thigh. He knew how that drove him mad. 

“Besides, why give me that tape if you don’t want us to watch it?”

“Because, smeg-for-brains, the Christmas brunch starts in forty minutes. Unless you want the Hawk to note our absence?”

“Smeg!”

Lister had completely forgotten about the Christmas brunch. That was the JMC’s way of giving Catering a Christmas: they fed them brunch so they would not starve at Christmas dinner (Boxing Day was all on Catering). It would take them twenty minutes to get there, and Lister wasn’t about to pass up free food. He withdrew his hand.

“Later, then. Maybe tomorrow?”

Rimmer smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The brunch flew by in a haze of eggs, bacon and coffee (No champagne unfortunately. The brunch was a sober party). At half past one, they were ready to go to work. Lister had even showered. Rimmer kept fussing with his hair, putting more and more gel on. At last, Lister had to drag him away.

“Any more gel and they’ll be able to paste a tray to your head. It looks fine.”

“I have to look my best for the officers!”

Lister placed a hand on his shoulder. “You look fine. We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry up.”

“Of course we are. Let’s go, chop chop!”

Lister rolled his eyes, but at least his plan worked. Rimmer was so busy scolding him for almost making them late that he forgot to obsess about serving officers. They met up with Chen and Selby on the lifts and they kept up a lively conversation, distracting them from any nerves until they arrived at the ballroom. This vast chamber could hold the entire ship’s population if necessary and this was where the banquet would take place. Even Lister felt a slight twinge when he saw all the tables laid out on the floor. 

“Smegging hell,” whispered Lister. 

The floor was covered with circular tables save for the long rectangle at the front (the officer’s table).

“Is it always like this?”

“Wait until the people arrive,” said Rimmer. “It’ll be packed to the rafters.”

“Can I still claim illness?”

Lister tried to make it sound like a joke, but Rimmer heard the real meaning. He turned to Lister and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’ll be fine. It’s your first year so they won’t assign you more than one table. Besides, you’ll likely get a table of junior technicians and all they ever want is beer. The biggest thing you’ll have to worry about is them pouring it on you.”

“You’re taking the smeg.”

“Nope. First year I served, I came back to the bunkroom reeking of cheap beer. Why do you think I told you to save your extra water ration?”

“Because you wanted to join me after?”

Rimmer blushed. He was so easy. 

“Get a room, lads,” said Chen. “Looks like the Hawk’s here.”

It was all strictly business from there. She split them into their assigned groups and assigned a leader to each one. To Lister’s surprise, Sally from the teashop was Group D’s. She told them all to line up and assigned them their table. Lister was the last to receive his.

“Thought you’d be serving the officers.”

Sally laughed. “Give me junior techs and miners over officers any day. You have Table 49. Singh and Collins are vegetarians, but none of the others have any dietary restrictions.”

She then handed him a sheet of paper and a stack of place cards.

“Set the table and place cards according to the chart. Once that’s done, you’ll need to set out the hors d’oeuvres. Think you can handle it?”

“Yeah. Just one question. Are they miners or techs?”

“Technicians,” she replied. “Got a problem?”

“Nope,” he replied. 

“Best hurry then. They’ll be here before you know it.”

Lister was relieved that it wasn’t a table of miners. Jenkins had been banned from the coffee shop for two months, thanks to his language, but Lister still did not want to risk having to deal with him or his cronies. 

He soon forgot all about them when confronted with the place setting chart. Smeg, this thing was finicky. All the plates and glasses had to be set in the right order. Smeg forbid they gave them a dessert plate instead of salad plate. The cutlery was the worst, and if Lister had to bet, none of the techs would even give a smeg about the placement of a steak knife vs. a butter knife. Still the Hawk would so Lister followed every single persnickety instruction down to laying down the Christmas crackers horizontally instead of vertically. As luck would have it, his table was one of the first to be inspected.

The Hawk cast her eyes over every single place setting, but did not touch anything. 

“Satisfactory. Get the hors d’oeuvres.”

Lister breathed a sigh of relief. A few tables over, Chen and Selby were not so fortunate and he could hear her berating them for their sloppy work as he brought in the platters of hors d’oeuvres. Lister went over and helped them straighten everything out before the guests arrived. Somehow, they got everything ready.

Once the guests arrived, it was mayhem. Lister had a table of ten and they all ordered beer first thing (with vegetarian ones for Singh and Collins). They also seemed to inhale the food, too. Lister missed Captain Hollister’s welcome speech because he was busy bringing out endless platters of vegetarian, beef and chicken pakoras and that was when he wasn’t bringing out endless pint glasses full of beer. He swiped a few pakoras and stuffed them in his pockets when no one was looking. He’d save them for later.

However, once the soup course arrived, Lister was able to relax a bit. His table was rather demanding when it came to their beer, but they weren’t smegheads about it, and their demands slowed once they had their soup. Collins and Singh were the only ones who ordered salad so Lister had a tiny break. He glanced up toward the head table where Rimmer was serving. 

***

Rimmer was not so fortunate. The officers he was serving all wanted different drinks and even he was finding it difficult to keep it them straight. He managed throughout the hors d’oeuvres and soup course, but it was just after the salad course was served that he made his mistake. He gave Robards Kochanski’s eggnog and rum and Kochanski Robards' Old Fashioned. Robards took a swig of it and screamed at him.

“I ordered an Old Fashioned, you twonk. Get me another one!”

Kochanski looked coldly at Robards and handed her the Old Fashioned.

“I haven’t touched it yet. Take this.”

Rimmer wanted to disappear.

“So sorry, ladies. I can have another one made free of charge.”

Robards took the Old Fashioned without a word of thanks to Kochanski.

“Mind you do that. I want a double, too.”

The last thing that that woman needed was more alcohol, but it was not Rimmer’s place to question that. He went back and asked the officer’s bartender to re-make the orders again. He looked at him as though he were poison.

“Too stupid to get it right the first time? Why you’re here is beyond me.”

His ears burned. “Sorry. Can you please just make them again?”

He took his time about it, but at last he re-made them. Rimmer walked as quickly as he could. Kochanski thanked him with a smile when he gave her the eggnog and rum. Robards just handed him the empty glass and took the other one. 

“Now get me some red wine. Malbec, not the shitty house wine.”

On and on it went. Of all the officers he had to serve, only Kochanski showed any gratitude. Rimmer began to count the minutes until the banquet was over. He’d waited twelve years to serve officers and this was he got? At least his family had given him a chance to relax between courses. 

The real trouble started just before he and the others were supposed to bring out the turkey. He had brought Robards her wine. She took a drink and spat it out.

“I said ‘Malbec’ not house red, you smegging ponce. Of course, one can’t expect the likes of you to tell the difference.”

The others except for Kochanski laughed. 

“So sorry, Ma’am. I’ll get another straight away.”

What happened next was something nobody could have predicted. Robards picked up the glass and threw the wine right at him, splattering his face and shirt.

“How do you like that, you little fag?”

Rimmer was too startled to react. The real shock came when Kochanski stood and yelled in Robard’s face.

“THAT IS ENOUGH!”

Everyone else fell silent except for Robards who giggled.

“Isn’t just like you, Krissy, to defend a smegging loser? I mean, look at him.”

“I am,” replied Kochanski. “He’s worth a hundred of you, smeghead.”

“What did you call me?”

Kochanski’s reply was cut off by the arrival of the Hawk, with Lister behind her. Kochanski was wise enough to shut up. Robards was not.

“At last. Someone competent. Are you here to replace him?”

Rimmer’s jaw dropped and he wasn’t the only one. Even Kochanski was shocked out of her temper. The Hawk gave Robards a razor smile.

“No, luvvy. The one leaving the banquet tonight is you. Get up and get out before I call the MPs.”

Robards stayed seated. 

“It’s all his fault!”

“How amusing. I was unaware Rimmer had telekinetic powers. Or would you rather claim your hand just slipped?”

Robards glared at the Hawk, but said nothing. Even she was beginning to realize lying would do no good.

“No? No pathetic excuse for me? Good. I’ll just revoke your alcohol privileges for two months then.”

Now it was Robards' turn for her jaw to drop.

“You can’t do that! A Catering Officer can’t do that to me!”

The Hawk kept smiling. “Six months. I can and I will. Leave now before I increase it.”

“This isn’t fair! I’m an officer and I have my rights!”

Even soaked with red wine as he was, Rimmer was beginning to rather enjoy this.

“I outrank you, sweetie. Your alcohol privileges are now revoked for the year. Isn’t that right, Todhunter?”

Todhunter had shown up with two MPs to escort Robards.

“That’s right, Hawkins.”

He then turned to Robards, as angry as Rimmer had ever seen him. He could swear the other officers flinched.

“One more word out of you and I’ll request that they be revoked for the rest of the voyage.”

A sense of vindictive pleasure filled Rimmer as he watched her be escorted out between the two MPs. However, he couldn’t watch for too long for the Hawk ordered Lister to take him to the back and get changed before it was time to serve the turkey. Spare shirts were in the staff room. The first thing Lister did once they were back there was to ask him if he was okay.

“I’m brilliant, thanks to you. How did you know to bring the Hawk?”

“She was decent to me before back when you had to leave the shop.”

In other words, on Fish Day. Rimmer decided to change the subject.

“You see a clean shirt my size here?”

Rimmer took off the soiled shirt while Lister looked for a clean one. At last, Lister found one in the pile.

“This one’s not too bad.”

Rimmer inspected it before putting it on. Even now, Lister’s standards were well below his. He determined that it was satisfactory (No obvious rips or stains) and was about to put it on when he saw Lister looking at him with a wicked gleam in his eye.

“What?”

“How long do you think it would take for them to come find us?”

Rimmer put the shirt on. “The Hawk? Two seconds.”

Lister looked disappointed so Rimmer put a finger to his lips and then to Lister’s. 

“Besides, after this, we’re going to need a nice, long shower. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Now it was Lister’s turn to blush, but it only lasted a few moments before he grinned.

“I’m holding you to that, too.”

They ran back outside just as the turkey was being served. Rimmer apologized to Kochanski for the delay.

“That’s all right,” she replied with her pinball smile. “We all understand. Right?”

None of the other officers dared to contradict her. The rest of the banquet flew by in a haze of trays and speeches from Hollister and by 7 p.m., everyone had left for the after parties, except for the waiters who had to clean up. Rimmer did not mind though. He and Lister would be having their own party soon enough. He sped through the cleaning, not even bothering to check his lists. Finally, the Hawk released them.

“I don’t want to see any of you until 6 p.m. tomorrow. You’re dismissed.”

They all cheered, even Rimmer, and for once he didn’t mind the loud cheerfulness surrounding him as they took the lift back to their quarters. He and Lister leaned against each other, prompting some teasing from the others. He let Lister answer back with teasing remarks of his own, having no wish to spoil the moment.

Once they were off the lifts, they all went back to their own quarters and they were finally free. Lister turned to Rimmer.

“What about that shower, now?”

Rimmer was already taking off his shirt.

“Well ahead of you, miladdio. I’ll beat you in at this rate.”

In the end, Lister won. He stood in the shower cubicle, grinning.

“Care to join me, smeghead?”

It wasn’t fair. The man threw his clothes on the floor for smeg's sake. How was Rimmer supposed to compete with that? He took his time by throwing all their clothes in the laundry basket, ensuring that Lister saw his naked body while he was doing it. 

“Come on!”

Rimmer took his time, putting each individual item in the basket one at a time. Finally, Lister stepped out of the shower.

“I’ll help you.”

Rimmer took his chance and ran into the shower. He smiled when Lister glared at him.

“Now I’m the first. Care to join me?”

“Smeghead,” said Lister.

Still, Lister came to join him in their tiny shower cubicle. One of the few perks of being a Catering Officer was having a shower in their room, being as they were below the Officer’s quarters. A certain level of hygiene was expected (how exactly Lister got hired, he still did not know) and so they had their own shower to help them meet it. Nevertheless, since they were only a Petty Officer Third Class and Fourth Class respectively, they had the tiniest personal shower, forcing them to stand up against each other if they wanted to fit. 

Rimmer did not mind. The press of their bodies worked to their advantage. He leaned over to smell Lister’s hair.

“Beer. I knew it.”

Lister glared up at him. 

“The others dumped a pitcher on my head after the techs left. You could have warned me.”

That happened to every Christmas newbie. Rimmer had had at least two dumped on his head the first year he’d served while the others laughed.

“Couldn’t warn you. It’s all part of the initiation.”

Rimmer could only imagine how the others would retaliate if he had snitched to Lister. Their tolerance of him due to Lister only extended so far. Lister continued to glare at him.

“I’ll make it up to you, though. Let me massage it.”

Lister’s glare turned to disbelief. 

“Rimmer, not two weeks ago you called my hair a biohazard.”

“That’s because you don’t wash it properly.”

“That’s because I don’t have the right shampoo to wash it with.”

That much had been true. The shampoo provided by the ship was the cheapest possible stuff, which meant it was smegging awful for anything but the straightest of hair. Rimmer had endured it for years, accepting the constant frizziness as normal. Curls were something to be tamed, not embraced. Before talking to Lister, he had not even realized that a special shampoo was necessary. He had laughed at first.

“You really mean you need something special for curly or natural hair? I just use the ship issue shampoo.”

Lister had looked at him. “It shows. It’s expensive so I don’t really bother most of the time. I have other priorities.”

“Like what? Adding to your dirty sock basket?”

Still, it had stuck with Rimmer and so he had decided to look for a shampoo for curly/natural hair. He had gone to the hair salon and they had just laughed in his face. 

“We won’t get anymore until we get back to Miranda. Try again then.”

In the end, he had gone to Gardiner and asked her if she had had a spare jar she would be willing to sell. He’d gotten one off her in exchange for free delivery drinks for a month. It was a hard bargain, but one well worth the price to see Lister’s face when he showed him the jar.

“Where’d you get this? This is the good stuff.”

“Never mind,” replied Rimmer. “Now you have no excuse not to wash your hair.”

“Beer’s supposed to be good for hair,” protested Lister.

“That’s only if you wash it out,” replied Rimmer.

He turned on the shower and let the warm water soak them both. After the banquet, the warm water was welcome for both of them, easing the aches in their bodies. Now was usually the time they would start with the handjobs, but for now they were both content to let the warm water run over their bodies. Then, Rimmer had an idea.

“Let me massage the shampoo onto your hair.”

Lister looked up at him.

“You serious?”

“Perfectly, Dave. Now let me work.”

Now that they were both soaked, Rimmer turned the water off to save the rest of it for rinsing. Their combined body heat was enough to keep them warm now. Rimmer took a dollop of the shampoo and got to work massaging it into Lister’s hair. Lister closed his eyes and relaxed as Rimmer gently worked the shampoo into his locks. He moaned softly, nearly driving Rimmer to distraction. As he grew hard, so did Lister. Soon Lister’s hands made their way to Rimmer’s cock and for a moment he hesitated. Should he stop and do the same for Lister? Lister looked up at him when he stopped massaging his hair.

“Keep going.”

So he did. While his hands worked Lister’s hair, Lister’s hands worked his cock until Rimmer came, spurting his come on Lister’s thighs. Rimmer just about collapsed then and there. Only Lister’s body held him up. 

“Hey, take it easy, man,” said Lister. “Should we just finish it off now?”

“But I haven’t gotten you off yet.”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Lister. “I can finish myself off if I have to.”

Rimmer was tempted, but then he had an idea. He whispered it to Lister and he grinned. 

“All right.”

That was how Rimmer found himself on his knees sucking Lister off while Lister worked shampoo into his gel-covered hair. The harder Lister massaged it, the more Rimmer enjoyed it and the more he teased Lister’s cock with his tongue. Lister had quite a substantial cock which made it all the better for Rimmer. He had no doubt his parents would expire on the spot if they saw how much he was enjoying this. Once, that would have stopped him cold. Now, he just kept at it until Lister told him he was about to come. He pulled his mouth and closed his eyes, letting Lister’s come spurt over his body. They would just rinse it off after all. Rimmer looked up and was about to ask him how it was when he saw he did not need to: Lister was obviously on Cloud 9. Rimmer smiled at a job well done. 

He eased his way back up the stall and turned the warm water back on, letting it cleanse both their bodies. They both stayed there until their water ration had run out and they were thoroughly rinsed off.

Lister preferred to pat his own hair dry so Rimmer just focused on drying off his. It amazed him how much better it looked after using the special shampoo. It no longer frizzed up as soon as he looked at it. It also felt lustrous and not about to break as soon as he touched it. Lister caught him looking.

“What’re you looking at? Spinach in your teeth?”

“It’s my hair,” he replied. “It doesn’t look completely awful.”

“That’s because you used some decent product for once. Don’t tell me they never had it on Io.”

“Not in my family,” replied Rimmer. “It was considered unmanly to have curls.”

Both he and Frank had suffered for that one. In the end, Frank had straightened his in secret with their mother’s straightening iron. Rimmer had tried that once and had ended up burning his ear so he just stuck to gobs of gel. Until now.

Lister sighed. “The more I hear about them, the less I want to meet them.”

“Hopefully, you never will,” replied Rimmer. “Want to share a bed tonight?”

Lister grinned. 

“You bet.”

As they had done that first night. Lister got in first and Rimmer followed him. As they snuggled together, Rimmer reflected that this was the first happy Christmas he had ever had. He kissed Lister on the forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Dave.”

He was already fast asleep.


	7. Boxing Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boxing Day brings both news and new pleasures for the both of them.

Lister woke up yet again with Rimmer’s arms around him. This had become one of his favourite things to do. This time, Rimmer was awake first.

“Up, up, sleepyhead. Long day ahead.”

Lister groaned. 

“Can’t we just stay like this?”

“All right, but only for a few minutes.”

Who would have ever thought Rimmer of all people would take so well to cuddling? Lister snuggled closer.

“Couldn’t we stay like this all day? Party’s not ‘til six.”

“Do you really want to spend the entire day lying in bed?”

Lister’s fingers ghosted down to Rimmer’s groin.

“Not just lying in bed, smeg-for-brains.”

Breakfast was rather late for them. Rimmer made Lister get it.

“It’s all your fault we’re late.”

“Like you didn’t enjoy it.”

Still, Lister went. If he didn’t watch it, he’d be wearing an apron and helping Rimmer tidy the bunkroom soon. He let it slide for today. After all, they had a tape to watch. When he went to the vending machine, Petersen was also there, and he was reading a letter. He looked happier than Lister had ever seen him.

“What’s up with you? You find a girl?”

“Nope,” said Petersen. “They found a bloke to replace me so I’ve resigned. I’ll be in my house after New Year’s.”

Lister forced a smile. “That’s great, Olaf.”

“Knew you’d understand.”

Rimmer guffawed when he told him.

“He’s actually serious? He’s going to hang around his house in a spacesuit?”

“That’s the plan,” said Lister with a shrug. “Bought the oxygen tanks and everything apparently. He’s bound and determined.”

“What else would you expect of him? The man’s utterly mad and thick as a plank.”

It wasn’t as if Petersen was one of the great brains of this century, but Lister still felt angry at Rimmer’s mockery. He stopped eating and set down his coffee.

“He’s the one who told me to go back to you the day I came back here, smeghead.”

Rimmer looked stunned.

“Did he really?”

“Yeah, he did. If I were you, Rimmer, I wouldn’t be insulting him. I’d be thanking him.”

“What do you want me to do, thank him on bent knee?”

Lister rolled his eyes. “There’s no need to go that far. Just smile and congratulate him when he tells you the news, and if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say it at all. Can you manage that?”

Now it was Rimmer’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Of course I can manage that. I don’t hate him after all. Still, you have to admit, it’s rather odd.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” said Lister. “Still, it’s his dream.”

“And what of your dreams?”

Lister looked at Rimmer. He seemed perfectly serious. 

“You know mine. What about yours?”

“Only if you promise not to laugh.”

“It can’t possibly be any more ridiculous than sitting around in a house on Triton in a spacesuit waiting for housing prices to go up.”

“True. Promise you me you won’t laugh?”

Rimmer put his hands up.

“I promise. Now out with it.”

“I’d like to open a coffee and donut shop on Fiji and have a farm with a sheep and cow. I’d also have horses and we’d ride them together.”

He looked at Rimmer, expecting him to laugh in spite of his promise. Instead, he looked puzzled.

“But Fiji’s under three feet of water.”

“That’s why the land’s so cheap. There’s drainage grants you can apply for though.”

“Good. For a moment there, I thought you were going make the sheep wear water wings.”

“Even I’m not that dumb,” said Lister. “Dunno if I’ll ever get there, but it’s a dream.”

“Is that why you accepted a position in the coffee shop?”

Lister’s confusion must have shown so Rimmer clarified. 

“I mean it’s much easier to get on a ship as a technician. You don’t need any qualifications for that.”

Lister shrugged. “By the time they offered it, I just wanted to get off Mimas. They just asked me if I’d ever worked in a coffee shop before. I told them I had so I got the job.”

“So you lied.”

“It wasn’t a complete lie. I once did some sweeping up in a coffee shop back in Liverpool. That’s all I did, but they didn’t need to know.”

“The very nerve of you.”

Rimmer smiled though so Lister didn’t take it personally. He leaned over and gave Rimmer a kiss. 

“Aren’t you glad I didn’t tell the whole truth? Now, what about that tape you gave me?”

At last they were able to sit down and watch _Big Boys With Boots_. Videotapes had almost completely died out before the advent of space travel back in the late 20th century, but once space travel had been established they had been revived, and especially for porn. Companies such the JMC were as stingy with hard drive space for crewmembers as they were with everything else and one porn movie could easily eat up half the space. Therefore, most kept their porn on tape and traded them on the ship’s black market. 

That would have been how Rimmer would have gotten it and Lister was about to ask him who he’d traded it with when the tape proper started and Lister forgot all about it.

It wasn’t as if it was a good film, even by porn standards. The tape was grainy. The plot was laughable even for porn. The men weren’t even that good-looking. And yet, when the older one pulled down the trousers of the younger one and started to rail him in Zero-G, Lister couldn’t look away. He wasn’t the only one. He could hear Rimmer moaning as the older man pulled out and admonished the younger one for his poor performance and started to spank him. Spanking wasn’t exactly Lister’s kink, but even he found it hot when the officer slowly spanked the younger one with a space paddle. 

He began to harden and looked over at Rimmer. Soon, all thoughts of watching the tape were forgotten as they went for each other, their moaning matching the moaning on screen. 

Lister barely heard as the tape finish, busy as he was pinning Rimmer down to the couch and rubbing his cock on Rimmer's. Rimmer came first and jerked Lister off the rest of the way until he came. He collapsed onto Rimmer afterwards and Rimmer let him. Rimmer smiled at him.

“Enjoy your present?”

“Very much,” replied Lister, “Though I feel it’s slightly incomplete.”

“How so?”

Lister whispered what he wanted to Rimmer and Rimmer’s eyes widened. 

“You really want that?”

“I do, and I want you to be the one to do it. Can you handle it?”

“Of course I can!”

“All right, then.”

Lister got off Rimmer and dragged his mattress off his bunk. For what he wanted, the couch wouldn’t be enough. Rimmer got up and helped him.

“I just have one condition each: I have to wear a condom and you have to have lube.”

Lister had expected no less from Rimmer. He grinned.

“We’ll just make it part of the fun.”

Rimmer blushed, but he held firm, “I’ll take you up on that, miladdo. Now, where did I stash them?”

In the end, Rimmer found his condoms and lube in Lister’s clean sock drawer. When Lister gave him a look, Rimmer replied that it was the one place he knew Lister would never look.

“Very funny, Arn.”

Still, Lister had his plan, and so he began to strip off his clothes. Instead of throwing them as he usually did, he took them off slowly, piece by piece, until he was naked as the day he was born. He looked back at Rimmer.

“Like what you see?”

Rimmer just moaned. He was already hard. Lister walked over to him.

“I’d best get these trousers off. Can’t put a condom on with these on.”

“No, you certainly can’t.”

Rimmer moved his hands down, but Lister moved them away.

“No, sir. Let me.”

Rimmer moaned as Lister pulled down his trousers and pants, exposing his hard cock. Lister finished stripping him by pulling his socks off, and ordering Rimmer to step out of them.

“Very good, sir. Where’s the condom?”

Rimmer handed him the condom. Sure enough, it was one of his. It had his name label sewn onto the package after all. Lister grinned when he saw it.

“You like to claim things as yours, don’t you sir?”

Rimmer made a strangled noise from the back of his throat. 

“Of course I do, you impudent goit!”

Lister kept grinning and tore into the packaging.

“Well, I’ll just have to help you with that.”

He placed the tip of the condom on the head of Rimmer’s cock and rolled it back slowly. Once he was covered, Lister stepped back.

“Was that satisfactory, sir?”

“Very,” replied Rimmer.

“Then let’s get to it.”

Lister led Rimmer over to the mattress and got into position, hands and knees on the mattress, ass up in the air where Rimmer could get to it. Now it was his turn to moan in anticipation as Rimmer used his fingers to stick in the lube.

“Get on with it!”

Rimmer withdrew his fingers.

“Who’s on top here, me or you?”

Still, Rimmer thrust into him, each thrust driving Lister madder than the last. Even with the lube, there was some pain, but Lister had hoped for this. The pain made the pleasure all the better. This was even better than pegging (Hayley Summers had been the one to introduce him to that). Just knowing that it was Rimmer’s cock in there was enough to push him over the edge, and he came first, his come spurting over the mattress. Rimmer came soon after and after he withdrew from Lister and threw out the used condom, they collapsed on the mattress together. 

Neither of them spoke, just content to lie there and enjoy the moment. Lister reached up to caress Rimmer’s cheek, and to his surprise, Rimmer reciprocated. 

“Was it good for you?” he asked Lister. He looked worried so Lister hurried to reassure him

“It was smegging incredible,” he replied. “Let’s do it again.”

Rimmer smiled and the worry lines left his face. “All right, but next time you’re wearing a condom, too. You’ve been quite a strain on my laundry allowance.”

“You can have some of mine,” replied Lister with his own grin. 

“No, you don’t, miladdio,” he replied. “It’s high time you had some of your clothes cleaned. I’ll just have to pay extra.”

“Good thing I provide value for money,” retorted Lister. “Now, where were we?”

By the time the party rolled around, both men were thoroughly sated. Lister knew he was and Rimmer looked like the cat who swallowed the canary.

“Don’t look too cheerful,” teased Lister as they made their way to the lifts. “Whatever shall they think of us?”

Rimmer threw an arm around Lister’s waist.

“Let them think what they like.”

This year, the party was at the Copacabana and there were well over a hundred people there once you included the outside guests. Rimmer went over to the food table while Lister found Petersen cracking open a keg while quaffing down a can of whiskey in his other hand.

“Easy, Olaf,” said Lister. “We’ve got all night.”

“Can’t drink on Triton,” replied Petersen, “So I’ve got to get it in while I can.”

“You’ve got until New Years.”

“What good’s a party if you can’t drink? Here, take one for you and for him.”

Petersen handed him two pint glasses full of beer. Knowing further argument would be futile he took them over to the table where Rimmer was sitting with Chen and Selby. They already had their beers and were busy drinking them down fast as they could manage while trying to persuade Rimmer to grab a pint and do the same. Rimmer smiled gratefully at Lister when he arrived with the beer.

“Thank, God. I thought I was going to have to guard our plate from these jackals for an eternity.”

“Oi, who are you calling a jackal?” said Chen even as he swiped another sausage roll off Rimmer’s plate. Lister retaliated by swiping one off theirs.

“Don’t deny it,” replied Rimmer. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been eying Sally up.”

“We can’t all date our workmates. Besides, she’s giving me the eye back.”

“Dream on,” said Selby. “What’re we doing talking when we could be drinking?”

And so the night went on. After they’d all had a few, Chen actually went up to Sally, and soon they were on the dance floor. Selby soon joined them. Lister shook his head.

“Who would’ve thought?”

“That’s Catering for you,” replied Rimmer. “I can guarantee you anyone not already paired up is looking tonight.”

“Do they succeed?”

“Everyone but me.”

Lister winced. Small wonder he had not wanted to come. Still, it was different now.

“Well, you’ve no need to worry now. Want to dance?”

Rimmer looked at him as though he'd suggested eating a poisonous insect.

“Whatever for?”

Lister was taken aback by his vehemence. 

“What’ve you got against dancing?”

“I only know Morris dancing. Besides, everyone will see.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’ve just got to do it.”

“But I don’t know how. I'll make us both look like complete goits!”

This smeg again. Just when Lister thought Rimmer had gotten over his anxiety, it would rear its ugly head yet again. Lister sighed and took another swig of his beer. 

“None of that matters, smeghead. All that matters is that we don’t waste our time now.”

Then, Lister leaned over and whispered in his ear.

“Just follow my lead.”

At last Rimmer agreed. So Lister led him onto the dance floor, not stopping until they found a corner in the back. They had picked a good time to go on the floor for now the DJ put on a slow song. Lister placed his hands on Rimmer’s waist.

“Place your hands on mine and move with me.”

Together, they swayed on the dance floor, Rimmer stiff as a board at first, but relaxing more with every movement until he was in time with Lister. 

“Not so bad, is it?”

“Not bad indeed.”

Then the song changed and so did the tempo. The beat picked up and Lister let go of Rimmer’s waist. 

“Let’s get down!”

Rimmer hesitated only for a moment before joining him. Neither of them were what could be called great dancers. However, at that moment, none of that mattered.


	8. After the New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new year brings new worries and new challenges for the both of them.

However, such times could not last and all too soon, January had arrived and they settled back into their normal routine, sans Petersen. They had sent him off in style on New Year’s Eve, drinking champagne as their final sendoff to him and his final sendoff to alcohol. Lister could swear Petersen had downed an entire bottle’s worth of champagne, but as he had imbibed a fair amount himself, he couldn’t say for sure. 

All he knew was that both he and Rimmer spent most of New Year’s horizontal on their bunks. Luckily, they had the day off, but they couldn’t enjoy it much. Rimmer had spent most of the morning groaning. 

“This has to be the worst hangover I’ve ever had in my life.”

“I’ve had worse,” replied Lister.

“How is that possible?”

“Simple,” replied Lister. “One New Year’s back in Liverpool, a mate brought some real Mexican tequila and used that to make the punch. Add champagne and beer on top that and you can imagine the rest. I couldn’t stand for a week after that.”

“What about work?”

Lister shrugged even though Rimmer could not see it.

“I got sacked. So what? Megamart was hiring.”

“Your attention to your career is truly astounding.”

“What career? I was a cleaner at Henley’s Emporium. Trust me, Megamart was an improvement.”

“How was working at Megamart an improvement over a department store?”

“It wasn’t a department store in the traditional sense. They had porn kiosks and sold access to them.”

Lister could hear Rimmer sitting up and bumping his head against the ceiling of his bunk. 

“Wait, you sold porn and that was worse than Megamart?”

Lister snorted. “I didn’t sell it. I just cleaned up after the ones who did. Trust me, you get bored pretty fast. I worked there only two months and it took me six whole months to recover my taste for it after I was sacked.”

Lister could still remember trying vainly to clean up the spunk and smeg after the previous customers had vacated the kiosk. Ever since United America had launched their spyware and sold it to everyone else, most preferred to view their porn well away from their real life and Henley Emporium had provided. 

“All that porn and you didn’t even appreciate it.”

“Rimmer, would you have liked to clean up another man’s smeg?”

“Point taken. Still, you could have at least swiped a few tapes.”

“What makes you think I didn’t? Got a few dollarpounds, too.”

That was the one thing Lister had missed about that job. Nicking energy drinks just didn’t provide the same return. Still, at least he hadn’t had to clean up smeg at Megamart (much). It was all rather immaterial anyway because Rimmer soon vacated his bunk to address the throne (their chemical toilet in this case) and the conversation ended there. 

The next day they were back in the coffee shop pounding back double espressos yet still hungover. Nevertheless, they weren’t the only ones. Kochanski stumbled in two hours after opening looking rather worse for the wear, and ordered a double espresso with extra shots.

“Long night?” asked Lister.

Kochanski groaned. “You don’t know the half of it. Still, at least I’m well out of the smeg with Robards now.”

“What happened?”

As Rimmer made her espresso, she told them the whole story. She had been unlucky enough to have Robards for her roommate and the incident with Rimmer at the Christmas banquet had been a boiling point for her. After that, she had requested a change of rooms.

“I went straight to the Captain and asked to change rooms. I told him I’d rather—no, I shouldn’t say it.”

Rimmer finished making her espresso and handed to her.

“It can’t be any worse than what we’ve been called,” said Lister.

“All right. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I told the Captain I’d rather bunk with you, Rimmer.”

Rimmer looked rather indignant, but then Lister grinned and put an arm around his shoulder.

“You can’t have him.”

“Sorry, but it worked,” replied Kochanski. “I’m in McGruder’s old quarters now.”

Rimmer spoke up.

“Do you know why she left?”

“She got offered a senior navigation position on the _Columbus 3_ while we were in Miranda. Transfers like that don’t come by very often.”

“Indeed they don’t,” said Rimmer faintly.

Lister took his arm off Rimmer and went to the counter.

“Will that be all?”

Once Kochanski had left, Lister looked at Rimmer. He was white as a sheet.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he snapped back. “It’s just a relief to hear she’s all right, that’s all.”

Lister knew that he was not being completely honest and set the bell out on the counter.

“In the back, now.”

“What about our customers?”

“They can ring the bell. Come on.”

They went to the back. Rimmer still would not look at him so Lister took him by the arm.

“What’s this all about? I thought you and McGruder only had a one-night stand.”

“It was more like a ten-minute stand, but that’s because I cried at the end of it.”

“Oh, smeg.”

Rimmer said nothing, so Lister hurried to reassure him.

“Still, it’s not as if either of you were carrying any diseases. Also, it’s not as if she would take a position on a ship if she were pregnant.”

“That’s not what worries me.”

Now Lister was confused. What could have Rimmer’s knickers in such a twist? He was about to ask when Rimmer spoke.

“My brother Howard’s also on that ship.”

Rimmer never spoke of his brothers unless absolutely necessary. Given some of the stories Rimmer had told him, Lister could understand why. After all, it wasn’t as if he cared to speak about his time at the orphanage, either. Now, he understood.

“Just because they’re on the same ship doesn’t mean he’ll find out. Even if he does, it’s not as if you’re likely to see him again. When was the last time you spoke to him?”

“When I was twenty, at Io Polytechnic. It didn’t go well.”

“No reason to expect to speak to him again then. Unless you want to?”

Rimmer snorted. “Not in this lifetime.”

“Then what’s the worry?”

Rimmer sighed and the colour came back to his face. “Nothing, really. Let’s get back to the counter before anyone shows up to complain.”

Lister knew that wasn’t the whole truth, but it was as good as he was going to get for now. 

*** 

After the dust from New Year’s settled, the work ramped up. They now had less than six months left on Triton and the JMC had set high ore quotas for Red Dwarf as they did for all their ships so all the miners and supervising officers were now working longer shifts and more of them. This more than doubled the orders of takeaway coffee and kept both men busy. There were days when they would just go back to the bunkroom and collapse together.

Even Chen and Selby were forced to do some real work now. They complained whenever they could all get together for drinks.

“Petrovitch’s got us repairing unclogging soup nozzles, repairing vending machines and smeg knows what else,” Selby said.

“And the bastard’s timing us,” added Chen.

Lister winced in sympathy. Rimmer was not so sympathetic.

“That’s what you get for skivving off work for so long.”

“We can’t all serve fancy coffees to officers, smeghead” retorted Selby.

“You think I wasn’t timed? I was timed to the second when I was first trained.”

“Hang on,” said Lister. “You never said anything about timing me.”

Rimmer smiled. “That’s because I’m nice and don’t you forget it, miladdo.”

“Enough about that,” said Chen. “What’s this about the Captain and Chaplain Winters?”

Rimmer launched into the whole story with great delight. When it came to other people, the man was an incorrigible gossip. The first time Captain Hollister had come in, Rimmer had given him his usual silly salute, but the Captain had just waved him off and had ordered two Caramel Coconut Lattes. The next time, Winters came with him and it was obvious to everyone that she was far more than his spiritual advisor.

“Isn’t he married?” Lister had asked after they had left.

“Of course,” Rimmer had replied. “Captain’s privileges. She’s not the first, either.”

“How do you know?”

Rimmer had given him a look. “He brought the others here, too. He’s nothing if not predictable.”

“Smegging hell. You’d think he wouldn’t flaunt it in public.”

“He can do what he likes and we just have to smile. Why do you think I want to become an officer?”

“If I had my druthers, I’d rather be the Hawk.”

“Don’t say her name! You’ll summon her.”

Lister had rolled his eyes and gotten back to work refilling the milk and cream. Still, it was far from the last time they had shown up. 

Rimmer then finished off his story by saying, “It’s not going to last. He usually breaks up with them by Valentine’s Day. That, or they break up with him.”

“I’ll bet you a beer she breaks up with him by Valentine’s Day,” said Chen.

Rimmer smiled. “I’ll take that bet. If he breaks up with her, you have to buy me one.”

Selby added, “If they don’t break up, you both have to buy me one. If either of you win, I have to buy you one. Lister, you in?”

Lister shook his head. This was one activity he wouldn’t participate in anymore. Not after his last bet had stranded him on Mimas.

“I’ll pass. I’m not getting involved in that mess.”

Chen shrugged. “Suit yourself. Waste of a front-row seat if you ask me. We should be the ones doing your job.”

This time, Lister placed his arms on their shoulders and smiled at them. “All right, boys. All you have to do is get up every workday at five to do it. Still want to trade?”

Both Chen and Selby shuddered and dropped it. 

And so January passed. February came along and with it new orders from the JMC. Valentine’s Day was coming up and that meant a whole new list of special coffees to make and memorise. Lister raised his brows at a few of them.

“Cinnamon heart sprinkles on top of pink whipped cream? Foam in the shape of hearts? Really?”

Rimmer snorted. “How do you think I feel after twelve years of making them?”

“Valentine’s Day not your favourite?” Lister teased.

“Not if you’re in Catering,” Rimmer replied. “You know how many couples flood the restaurants on that day?”

“Surely not here, though.”

“You’d be surprised. Now watch as I demonstrate how to make a Strawberry Sweetheart Mocha.”

If Listert thought that the Christmas drinks were difficult, that was nothing to the Valentine’s Day drinks. He lost track of how many times he smegged them up. After the third time in a row he’d messed up making a foam heart, he could see Rimmer trying not to laugh.

“Don’t even think about it, smeghead.”

“Wasn’t planning to. Now watch again as I make it. You’ll learn fast”

Rimmer was right. People actually ordered the smegging things at a rate that astonished Lister. It was quite the racket that the JMC had, selling overpriced coffees that they made for pence on the dollarpound. 

“What do you expect?” Rimmer had said one night when they were back in their bunkroom. “Most holidays these days are a big con set up by advertisers to deprive fools of their money.”

“Still, it’d be nice to do something for Valentine’s Day. You sure you don’t want to go to a restaurant?”

“I’d rather have my testicles chopped off and plated before Todhunter. Do you have any comprehension of how miserable they are on Valentine’s Day?”

Lister sighed with relief. “Then how about after work we stay in, order in some takeaway curries and have fantastic sex?”

Rimmer smiled. “All right, but only if one of them’s mild. I don’t want to burn my tastebuds off.”

Lister grinned. “Sounds good to me. Besides, I can think of far better uses for your tongue.”

Rimmer had hit him in jest after that and pulled him in for a kiss and that had put an end to their conversation after that. Still, Lister wanted to do something more. As far as he knew, this would the first Valentine’s Day Rimmer had ever had in a relationship and the romantic in him wanted to make it special. However, it would be slightly problematic considering that they spent all their time together now. How the smeg was he supposed to surprise him?

However, about a week before Valentine’s Day, Rimmer handed him a golden opportunity. The day before their next day off, he asked if he could have the afternoon the next day to himself. Lister asked him why.

“You’ll see,” Rimmer replied. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“I’ll look forward to it. How much time should I give you?”

“Come back around six. Dinner should be here by then.”

“What’ll you be ordering?”

“You’ll see. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Lister wasn’t so sure (Rimmer’s taste in food could be rather bland), but he would try it for Rimmer’s sake. He put a smile on.

“As long as it’s not school porridge, I’ll give it a try.”

“You really think I would inflict that on you?”

Lister smiled. “Not anymore.”

The next day, Lister was down in the market area on Deck 45 along with everyone else who had the day off, looking for something to buy. He ran into Todhunter when he was boggling over the price for cut flowers. 

“Fifty dollarpounds for a tiny bouquet?”

“That’s what we get for being at Triton,” said Todhunter. “Anything fresh is at a premium now.”

He turned and saw him frowning up at the flowers.

“Didn’t see you there? How are you, sir?”

He smiled. “I’m all right. No need to call me ‘sir’ now. I’m off duty today.”

“Same here,” said Lister. “You buying for anybody?”

“My partner, but they’re on another ship. Don’t think I’ll be sending them flowers.”

They turned away from the flowers. 

“Didn’t know you had a partner,” said Lister.

“It’s not something I tend to broadcast,” he replied. “You know how people are around here.”

Lister winced. He knew how Rimmer and the others would love to spread that one around.

“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”

“It’s more for their sake I keep quiet,” he replied, “Their family’s Ionian.”

Lister winced again. “Definitely keeping it quiet then.”

“Rimmer’s from Io, isn’t he?”

Lister nodded. “Told me all about what a bunch of smegheads they are, pardon my French.”

“No need to apologise. I’ve got family there on my mother’s side so I know. By the way, how is he? Has Robards bothered either of you again?”

“He’s fine. We haven’t seen her at all.”

They had not heard a peep from Robards. Apparently, the loss of privileges had stuck. However, she had not apologised either so Lister was still wary. 

“Well, if she or anyone else bothers you, don’t hesitate to report it to me or Hawkins.”

“Don’t worry,” Lister replied. “If anything happens, Rimmer will fill out a report in triplicate.”

Todhunter laughed. “Sounds like him. I’d best leave you to your shopping. Good day to you.”

Once Todhunter had disappeared back into the crowd, Lister turned his attention back to the goods for sale. He gave up completely on the flowers and drifted over to the chocolates instead. They were still dear, but not so mad as the flowers. He managed to find a small box of mint chocolates in a red box for twenty dollarpounds. He knew Rimmer liked mint so he bought them and went over to the card shop to see if they had anything that wouldn’t make them both chuck from the sheer sentimentality (Unfortunately for them, the ship didn’t sell any dirty cards). In the end, Lister settled on a small blank card with a bundle of red tulips painted on the front. He’d just have to think of something to write. After paying for the card, he went off to the Botanical Gardens and sat on his favourite bench in front of the squirrels.

“Bet you lot don’t have to think of things to write on cards.”

As expected, they just jumped from branch to branch. The whole thing was ridiculous. When he’d given his girlfriends Valentine’s cards, he’d just bought whatever looked good and signed his name. He’d never worried about what to write before. Yet, now he cared. In the end, he wrote a few sentences that hopefully weren’t crap and sealed up the card. He still had two hours until dinner so he decided to amble around the gardens. 

He was wandering through the forest section when he heard the voices. He ducked behind a tree just in time to see Jenkins and Robards walking together along the path. He stood perfectly still, willing them not to glance over and spot him.

“…of course I would be happy to do it,” said Jenkins. “But what guarantee do you have that we wouldn’t get caught?”

“Not here,” she replied. “Come to my quarters, ten tonight.”

Then, they passed out of earshot. It could be nothing, but Lister’s skin still crawled. He waited until he couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore and then carefully made his way to the nearest exit. Best not to run and potentially draw their attention. Once out of the Botanical Gardens, he went to the nearest screen in the corridor and asked Holly if Rimmer was still in their room.

“He is and he says he’s not to be disturbed before six unless it’s an emergency, and no, you wanting to speak to him does not count.”

“Smegging perfect.”

What would he do now? Lister couldn’t exactly run to Todhunter on just a suspicion. He stood there for a moment before he had an idea.

“Can you tell me where Chen and Selby are right now?”

Thanks to Holly, Lister found them re-stocking crunchy bars in a vending machine on Deck 62. They were just finishing up the job when Lister found them. One look at Lister’s face and Chen put his tools down.

“You look like someone danced a jig on your grave. Something happen?”

Lister told them what he’d heard in the Botanical Gardens and the people involved.

“…it’s probably nothing,” finished Lister.

“But it doesn’t feel like nothing to you,” replied Chen.

“No, it doesn’t,” he replied. “Why should those two of all people be planning something together?”

“They could just be having an affair,” said Selby. “Isn’t Jenkins married?”

Lister shrugged. “Can’t say. Anyway, there’s no proof of anything.”

“We’ll keep our eye out,” said Chen. “You’d best run along before Petrovitch comes along. He’s a bear when it comes to talking to others during work.”

Lister took the hint. By now, it was half past five so he made his way back to their sleeping quarters. He dropped the card and chocolates off at his locker and made his way back to their sleeping quarters. He arrived at five before six.

Rimmer seemed shocked when he opened the door.

“Since when are you early?”

“Since I have something to tell you,” replied Lister. “Will you let me in now?”

“You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”

Lister rolled his eyes. “No, smeghead. It’s something I overheard. Will you let me in?”

“In a minute.”

Once Rimmer had tidied everything up, he finally let him in. Lister wasted no time in telling him about the conversation he overheard. 

“It could be nothing,” he finished off.

Rimmer snorted. “You think someone like her would invite the likes of Jenkins to her room for some hanky-panky? No, they’re up to something and you’re right to be worried.”

Lister sighed with relief. He’d been afraid Rimmer would minimize it. 

“Have you written it down?”

“Why? I have nothing definite to report.”

Rimmer sighed. “It’ll help if something happens. Why don’t I write it down and you can fill in the details?”

“Fine. Better you than me.”

Rimmer interrogated him about every tiny detail while he wrote it down on one of his many notepads. Lister struggled not to roll his eyes when Rimmer asked him about the exact tree he was hiding behind when he overheard Robards and Jenkins. 

“It was an evergreen tree. I don’t know.”

“We’ll have to go back and look when we have a chance. Never mind that, though. Supper’s arrived.”

Lister sighed with relief again as Rimmer took the boxes inside and peaked inside them. 

“This one has curry powder on top. Definitely yours.”

Lister peaked inside with some trepidation and was puzzled when he saw what looked like a Scotch egg, only larger.

“The smeg’s this?”

Rimmer smiled. “An Ionian Scotch Egg. Enjoy.”

Lister took a bite and was pleasantly surprised to find curried potato inside. Underneath the potato was a single hardboiled egg wrapped in the traditional layer of sausage meat. Lister ate every single scrap, even though he was stuffed by the end of it.

“Did you like it?” asked Rimmer.

“It was brilliant,” replied Lister. “Where’ve you been hiding these on me?”

Rimmer smiled with relief. “You know how hard these were to find? I had to promise Gardiner two weeks of free drinks to get them out of Stores.”

“Didn’t know Gardiner worked in Stores.”

“Her wife does. I promised free drinks for both of them.”

“Won’t the higher-ups notice?”

Rimmer snorted. “You think they care? So long as it’s not excessive, they all turn a blind eye to it.”

Same as their attitude to drugs then. Lister changed the subject.

“We should sell these in the coffeeshop. I bet we’d make a killing.”

“JMC policy, Listy. We sell what they dictate and nothing more.”

“Seems a waste.”

“That’s what it means to be in the Space Corps.”

“Count me out, then. Soon as we get back to Earth, I’m out of-“

Lister stopped speaking when he realized what he was saying, but the damage was done.

“So you’ll just leave me when we reach Earth.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I was hoping you’d come with me.”

Rimmer snorted. “With no money or prospects?”

“Don’t you want to see blue sky and feel the earth under your feet?”

“The only earth we had on Io was dirty, grimy, stuff and that was after the Earth pollutants were removed. No thank you.”

“You really want to spend the rest of your life on a spaceship living your life at the whims of the JMC or whoever else will employ you?”

“Better than having no living at all.”

After that, they stopped talking. Even their attempt at shower sex didn’t come off and they both gave it up and went to bed. Right now, this wasn't an argument either of them could win.


	9. Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lister talks to Rimmer and they prepare for Valentine's Day. The day is long, but pleasant surprises await them after.

Things remained uneasy between them for the next few days. Lister tried to get Rimmer to open up, but he said nothing beyond bland pleasantries. Lister almost wished he would act like an utter smeghead again because at least that would be normal. Finally, two days before Valentine’s Day, Lister had had enough. After work, he hung his apron up and told Rimmer he was going for a walk. 

“Follow me if you want to talk.”

Rimmer didn’t follow him, leaving Lister to walk the ship alone. Even the Botanical Gardens failed to cheer him up. Usually he and Rimmer ate supper together, but tonight he just grabbed a turnover from a vending machine. He went back to the bunkroom after his pitiful supper and, to his surprise, found Rimmer sitting at his desk staring at a blank piece of paper.

“Rimmer, what the smeg are you doing?”

“I can’t do it. I can’t make a new revision timetable.”

“Thought you were still banned from taking exams.”

Rimmer gave him a look. “The ban only stands for two more months. The next astronavigation exam is in three months. I have to start my revision timetable now.”

This smeg again. Lister just about lost it.

“Who’re you trying to fool? You spend so much time on the revision timetable that you never actually revise.”

“Thanks to you, I can’t even do that!”

“What the smeg have I got to do with it?”

Rimmer turned his chair around and looked right at him.

“Everything.”

The look of sheer despair on Rimmer’s face shocked Lister out of his anger.

“What d’you mean by that?”

Rimmer looked away. “I can’t explain it.”

“Try me, Arn.”

Rimmer sighed. “It all just feels so pointless.”

“The exam? Or something else?”

Rimmer took a deep breath. “Everytime I try to pick up an astronav textbook, I can’t. Just the thought of it makes my stomach turn.”

“Then why bother?”

“It’s the only way I’ll ever become an officer.”

“You are an officer.”

“I mean a real officer.”

Now it was Lister’s turn to sigh.

“We are real officers. We may not have the fancy gold braid and shiny pips, but what would the other officers do without us? Eat every meal out of vending machines?”

“They can certainly afford it,” sneered Rimmer.

“But the miners and techs can’t,” replied Lister,” And the officers are nothing without them. Did you ever think of that?”

From the thoughtful look on Rimmer’s face, he never had. Sadly, that was no surprise for Lister. Rimmer had been raised in a middle-class family of complete nutters and strivers who only ever looked up, not caring who they tread on along the way. It was only natural that he would absorb their values, even as they held him back now. Lister continued to talk.

“Look, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I don’t care if you become a Navigation Officer or stay a Petty Officer, Third Class. I’m staying right here with you.”

“But I thought you wanted to go back to Earth.”

“You don’t understand. I want to go back to Earth with you. Have you ever been there outside of school trips?”

“Not really.”

“You’ve never seen the real Earth that people actually live in. I can’t wait to get a chance to show it to you, but I’m not staying there without you.”

As Lister said it, he realized that he meant it. He still wanted to get to Earth of course, but it no longer loomed so large in his head. He no longer spent every second not buried in drink longing for Earth and this infuriating, wonderful man was the reason why.

“You really mean that?”

Lister went over to him and wrapped him in a bear hug.

“Every word,” he whispered. “Let me show you just how much I mean it.”

Three blowjobs later, Rimmer was sitting dazed on the couch, all thoughts of revision forgotten. Lister smiled.

“I should’ve done this before.”

“Insubordinate goit,” replied Rimmer with his own smile. “What makes you think I’d have let you?”

“I’d have found a way,” replied Lister. “Shall we turn in?”

The next day, Rimmer was back to his usual self and the weird tension had dissipated, much to Lister’s relief. Now all his attention was on preparing for Valentine’s Day. In the morning, he sent Lister for twice their usual supplies. When Lister asked why, Rimmer laughed.

“Do you have any idea what it will be like tomorrow? I’d ask for triple if it wasn’t outside our daily limit. You’ll have to get extra tomorrow, too.”

That would mean an even earlier start than usual. Lister groaned.

“Is Valentine’s Day always this bad?”

“Oh yes, Listy, it is. At least there’s two of us this year. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to handle it on my own.”

Lister was putting away the extra cream, but he stopped.

“Wait, you mean the others abandoned you?”

“Not always, but often enough. Put that cream away before it goes off.”

Lister rolled his eyes and complied, but it still shook him. Small wonder Rimmer had been so bitter before. Still, there were customers to serve, more than Lister expected. Around one, Kochanski and Bevens even came in together and ordered two espressos with an extra shot each.

“Late night tonight?” Lister asked.

Kochanski. “Yes, but not what you think. I’m on night shift tonight.”

“I’m supervising prep duty tonight,” said Bevens. 

Lister winced. From what Petersen had told him, prep for special events could take the whole night if they were unlucky. Lister wished them both luck with a smile as Rimmer made their drinks, and they both tipped well, Bevens leaving an enormous tip. 

“This isn’t necessary, sir.”

Bevens laughed. “Just Tim, please. Tomorrow’s going to be hell. Take it.”

They left after they got their drinks, walking arm in arm. They made a cute couple and Lister smiled after they left.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” asked Rimmer.

“Not in the least,” said Lister. “Now, what about those orders from the miners?”

The rest of the day passed quickly, never too many orders, or so few that they got bored. They were able to leave around four. They headed down to the Copacabana as usual on Thursdays. Chen and Selby were already waiting for them. However, they couldn’t stay long. Chen ranted at length.

“Petrovitch’s got us on all night stocking the vending machines with Valentine’s chocolates. How many does the bloody ship need?”

“You’d be surprised,” said Rimmer. “Put a heart and a holiday on something and people go mad.”

“Not our Sal, though,” replied Chen. “She said if either of us tried to give her any chocolate, she’d throw it right back at us.”

“Of course,” Rimmer replied. “Sally hates chocolate. Absolutely loathes and despises it.”

“How do you know that?” asked Lister.

“She’s served on the ship almost as long as I have,” replied Rimmer. “One tends to hear these things.”

“Anyway,” said Selby, “We’ve got our own plans tomorrow after she’s off.”

Ever since the Boxing Day party Sally, Chen and Selby weren’t exactly in a relationship, but they had a casual thing going that seemed to work for all three of them. Lister had been astonished at first. Rimmer had just shrugged. 

“That’s Sally for you,” he had said. “The rougher and more uncouth, the better.”

After that, Lister had just rolled with it. After all, they’d been quick to accept him and Rimmer. Chen and Selby only had time for a couple of drinks before their shift so the two of them went back to the bunkroom early. Lister left him to pick up the card and chocolates from his locker, smuggling them in his jacket. When he came back, he found Rimmer at his desk again.

“The smeg you doing?”

“Relax, Dave. All I’m doing is colouring in the squares for a new timetable.”

Lister looked over and for once Rimmer was honest. A half-coloured grid of squares lay on the desk.

“This is the best part of making the table,” he said, “Once it’s ready, then I can put a schedule on when I need it.”

When Lister looked dubious, Rimmer said, “Who knows? Maybe it’ll be a revision timetable for you.”

“Dream on, Rimmer. What do I want to become an officer for?”

“They may recommend you for a promotion soon.”

“Who’d want to promote me?”

“You never know. Besides, I’m done for the night. We both need a shower. We won’t have time tomorrow.”

After the shower, they snuggled in Rimmer’s bunk together. Rimmer insisted on Lister going in first as usual.

“It’s my job to protect you.”

Lister rolled his eyes, but he also smiled. “Go to sleep, smeghead.”

“Same to you, goit.”

Lister soon fell asleep in Rimmer’s arms. Before they knew it, the alarm was ringing at 4:30 a.m. and it was time to get up. They dressed, grabbed a quick breakfast from the vending machines and ate it on the way so they could be there at five when Rendell, Petersen’s replacement, would make a special delivery of baked goods. Rendell looked about as cheerful as they felt. He just grunted when he handed the trays over. Rimmer sent Lister for more supplies while he inspected the trays. By the time Lister had returned with all the extra supplies, it was past six, and Rimmer had already set pots to brew. Their day had officially begun.

The orders poured in both from Holly and the customers at the counter. Lister had no time to think as they processed the endless drink and food orders. Before he knew it, half the day had gone by and they hadn’t had a chance to breathe, much less take a break. While plating pastries for customers, Lister swiped two pastries for them and handed one to Rimmer.

“That’s JMC property.”

“Not anymore,” said Lister as he ate his. “Besides, we’re allowed one pastry and one sandwich a day.”

“How’d you know that?”

“You think you’re the only one who reads the rules? Any chance we can grab a coffee, too?”

In the end, Rimmer gave him a cup of the extra-strong roast with the usual cream and three sugars and gave him ten minutes to drink it. 

“I’m being generous. I’ll go after you.”

Lister didn’t complain. After all, they’d be done serving by 3:30 p.m. Compared to the day the vending machines failed, it was a rather short day. Lister went to the back and drank his coffee gratefully.

***

All in all, Rimmer thought today was going rather well. True, it was busy, but nothing out of the ordinary for Valentine’s Day. With Lister here, they could afford to take one short break each. The couples who had come in seemed to be behaving themselves and he hadn’t had to call security so today was better than many other Valentine’s Days. 

Then, while Lister was on break, Navigation Officer Davis approached the counter. He’d already served her and her husband their coffees and she had a frown on so he expected a complaint. He braced himself.

“What seems to be the problem, ma’am?”

She scowled. “Officers Edwin Townsend and Amelia Travers both entered the washroom a minute ago.”

Rimmer stifled a groan. This always happened on Valentine’s Day. Of course it happened when Lister was on break. He went to get him. Lister rolled his eyes when he told him.

“Smegheads. I’ll cover the counter.”

The rules were clear: as the superior officer, it was Rimmer’s job to approach them. He knocked on the door.

“Everything all right in there?”

He could hear giggling. 

“All good in here. Be out in a minute.” The giggling increased. 

“Townsend, Travers, I know you’re both in there. Come out now before I report you.”

“Smeg off!”

Rimmer sighed. Now, he would have to call security and that meant a report with the Hawk, dragging their day out even more. However, Navigation Officer Davis soon took matters into her own hands. She got up and banged on the door. 

“Officer Davis here. Get the smeg out or I’ll make sure you’re both demoted!”

They left soon after that. Rimmer would still have to submit a report, but at least he could just drop it off after work. He offered her an extra drink for the road as a thank you. She declined.

“It’s fine. You’ll have enough on your plate cleaning up after them.”

Rimmer took a look inside the tiny washroom and groaned. He’d have to clean the toilet and sink, wipe the mirror, clean the toilet paper strewn around the floor, and replace the bog roll. Smeg only knew how long that would take. Lister came up behind him.

“Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it.”

Rimmer looked at him, astonished. Since when did Dave Lister ever offer to clean anything?

“You sure?”

“Dead sure,” replied Lister with a shrug and a grin. “Can’t be worse than Henleys.”

Rimmer turned around and clapped a hand on his shoulder. He wanted to hug him, but if he did it would be the talk of the ship. Still, he smiled. 

“Cleaning supplies are in the back. Get to it, squire.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Rimmer went back to the counter and was busy catching up with the backlog of takeaway drink orders when the Captain arrived with the lovely Chaplain Winters in tow. Winters was scowling, which didn’t bode well. The Captain ordered Strawberry Sweetheart Mochas for the both of them and claimed the table closest to the counter (which was also the furthest away from the windows), and began to talk. Rimmer had made these drinks so many times, he didn’t need to pay attention to making them, leaving him free to listen in.

“….Talia, my wife wouldn’t understand. Couldn’t we at least wait until we get closer to Earth before talking about a divorce?”

“That’s what you always say.”

“That gives us another two years at least. Why not just enjoy it? Why talk marriage?”

Rimmer had just gotten their drinks ready when Talia Winters stood up.

“All right, Captain. If that’s your answer, so be it. Enjoy being single.”

The Captain ran after her before Rimmer could give him the drinks. The rest of the customers in the shop just watched. Then, Holly came on. 

“The Captain’s canceled the drink orders.”

“Smegging bollocks.”

If any of the others heard Rimmer swearing, they pretended not to notice. No one else had ordered any Strawberry Sweetheart Mochas recently so they just sat there on the counter until Lister finished cleaning the washroom. One look at Rimmer’s face was enough for him. 

“What happened?”

Rimmer told him the whole story while continuing to fill the rest of the drink orders. 

“Looks like Chen’s winning this bet,” he finished off.

“At least it’s just a beer. Could be worse.”

“I hate losing.”

“At least she didn’t throw the drink at him.”

Before Rimmer could say anything, Holly came on the screen.

“You’ve got another large order coming in from the miners.”

Rimmer took one at Lister and they each picked up a Strawberry Sweetheart Mocha. This time, they both chugged them down.

It was long past four by the time they left the shop. Closing Procedures always took longer on the days before the shop stayed closed for an entire day and Rimmer had insisted on doing every item on his lists. Lister had groaned.

“Why today of all days?”

“Because three times out of four, the Hawk has inspected the shop the day after. Do you really want to get hauled up here on our day off because we failed to clean the sink?”

After that, Lister had stopped complaining and they finished the job in record time (i.e. they left the shop before five). Still, Lister looked about as tired as Rimmer felt. Lister gave him a look. 

“We’re breaking into the gin.”

The cans of whiskeys and Kronenbergs from Christmas were long gone, but neither of them had touched the Mimasian Gin. Rimmer nodded.

“All right, but you’re paying for the ice.”

“Why do I have to buy the ice?”

“Because I’m buying the tonic and lime.”

Once that was settled, they repaired to the bunkroom ready to go. Rimmer opened his bottle (wasn’t as if he’d ever dare to drink it otherwise) while Lister got everything else ready. He added extra tonic to Rimmer’s. Even so, he coughed when he took his first swallow.

“That’s Mimasian Gin for you,” said Lister. “I’d just sip it if were you.”

Rimmer was about to retort that he wasn’t a dweebo who couldn’t hold his liquor anymore when he noticed Lister sipping at his. He copied him and soon they were both relaxed. Rimmer stood up and got the card he’d made for Lister, along with the chocolates. Lister did the same, pulling his from his jacket.

“How long have those been there?”

Lister rolled his eyes. “Just since yesterday. Do you want them or not?”

“Give them here.”

Rimmer opened the card, barely glanced at the red tulips on the front before looking inside. To his surprise, Lister had chosen a blank card and written something inside. He read it silently.

_Dear Arnold,_

_Don’t really know what to say. Just that I’m glad I met you and I’m glad to have you in my life. The ship wouldn’t be what it is without you._

_-Your Dave_

Rimmer looked down to hide his face. He feared he might cry and even now he refused to surrender to that urge. He glanced over at Lister to see how he liked his card. It wasn’t much. He’d just drawn it in an afternoon. He couldn’t read Lister’s expression and for a moment he feared it was yet another failure. Then, Lister smiled.

“This is brilliant, Rimmer. You drew it all yourself?”

Rimmer relaxed. “Everything except the palm tree which I traced.”

Rimmer had drawn a beach scene on a desert island, using one of Lister’s postcards as inspiration. He’d even added a sheep with waterwings swimming in the waves as a joke for Lister. Lister had a good laugh when he saw that. After that Lister pulled him in for a kiss and cards and chocolates were forgotten as they rolled around the floor.

“Oi! Show some respect for your deliveryman!”

Chen had shown up with the takeaway curries, not even bothering to knock. 

Rimmer blushed, but Lister just grinned at him.

“Good thing you were on time. Just think what you would have seen if you’d have come ten minutes late.”

They’d ordered them in advance so all they had to do was tip him.

“Remember, Rimmer, you owe me a beer,” he said before he left.

Trust him to already know. 

“You’ll have to collect it next week. We’re busy.”

He winked at them. “Enjoy the gin!”

Then he left.

“How did he know?”

“I think the bottle on the table gave us away. Shall we eat?”

“We’d better. We have a long night ahead of us.”

Tonight promised to be a smegging excellent night.


	10. The Day the Post Arrived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The post arrives and Rimmer receives some unexpected news. He also ends up stumbling on something far nastier than he had ever imagined and pays the price for it.

After Valentine’s Day, things were rather calm. The story of Captain Hollister and Chaplain Winters entertained the rest of the ship, and Lister managed to score a free drink off it. Otherwise, it was back to work as normal. Orders slowed down some. Rimmer assured him that this was normal.

“It always slows down after Valentine’s Day. Only reason it’s not completely dead is that we’re still at Triton.”

At least now they could go back to their regular drinks. Lister never thought that he’d see the day when he saw an espresso as a plain coffee. If he did not watch it, he’d be patronizing wine bars and trying to get in the property market. When Lister told Rimmer this, he laughed.

“We’ll make a civilized human being of you yet, Dave Lister.”

“Not before I finish corrupting you, Arnold Judas Rimmer” he replied with his own grin. 

As for exams, Rimmer had said nothing more on the matter so Lister had left it alone. He continued to colour in the squares, but wrote nothing in them. If that made Rimmer feel better, so be it.

The sex slowed some too, but Lister didn’t mind. They’d had plenty on Valentine’s Day and the day after. The furious passion that driven them in the first few months had changed into something else, something comfortable and almost domestic. Usually, this was the point in a relationship when Lister would run, but he felt no such urge with Rimmer. Instead he settled in and started to nest. One day in early March, he brought home a pair of robot goldfish and a tank.

“What are those?”

“Some goldfish,” said Lister. “Found them in the novelty shop on Deck 45. Thought they’d brighten the place up.”

Rimmer scoffed, but Lister noticed him watching them swim when he thought Lister wasn’t looking. It was soothing to watch them and Lister would do it with no shame. 

Of course, they still got together with Chen and Selby when they had the chance, but those were becoming few and far between. It seemed that orders had come down from the top and Petrovitch was working them to the bone. Even Rimmer had become sympathetic.

“He’s a total goit,” said Rimmer.

Of course, that could be because Petrovitch had come to the coffee shop and snapped at both Lister and Rimmer when they failed to make his macchiato to his standards. Rimmer had had to remake the drink twice before Petrovitch would accept it. By the time Petrovitch had left, Rimmer had been fuming and Lister had had to calm him down. 

“Who does he think I am, some inexperienced teenage gimboid? I know how to make a decent macchiato.”

“I know you do,” Lister had said. “He’s just in a foul mood.”

“That’s no reason to take it out on us!”

Chen and Selby weren’t the least surprised when they told them.

“It’s like his girl broke up with him or something. Ever since New Year’s, he’s been a right smeghead,” said Chen.

“And we can’t complain neither. Nobody’ll listen to us,” added Selby.

“Of course not,” Rimmer said. “Nobody important cares what the likes of us has to say.”

“Todhunter and Kochanski aren’t that bad,” replied Lister.

Rimmer had snorted. “Yes, because they can afford to be. If one of their own is questioned? Whole different story, miladdio.”

“He’s right,” Chen had replied. “They always defend their own.”

“What about the Hawk?” asked Lister.

“She’s a class unto herself,” replied Rimmer. “Still, one can’t exactly go whining to her about every little thing.”

“True,” replied Lister. “Have either of you heard the latest Zero-G scores?”

They all left soon after. By the time they got back to their quarters, there was a stack of letters waiting for them in their shared mail cubby. Rimmer insisted on sorting through it.

“Most of it’s yours, but there might be one or two for me.”

“Whatever you say, Rimmer.”

They sat on the couch together and Lister opened his mail as Rimmer handed it to him. It was all junk, and not even interesting junk. When Lister had first gotten on Red Dwarf, he’d been so happy to have a permanent address that he’d signed up for every promotion offered to astros on Miranda. He was beginning to regret that now.

“Why the smeg did I sign up to get the newsletter for the Interplanetary Cat Fancier’s Association?”

Rimmer snickered. “Just think, Listy. You could send away for an electronic cat to terrorize your goldfish. Perhaps that would liven them up a bit.”

“Very funny, Rimmer.”

Still, Rimmer continued to sort the mail and toss all the junk to Lister until he reached the last envelope. 

“This one’s for me.”

Lister tossed the last of the junk mail on the coffee table.

“Who’s it from?”

Rimmer frowned. “It’s from my mother. What’s she doing writing to me?”

“Thought you’d divorced her.”

“I did, but the terms of the divorce allow for her to write letters.”

Lister noticed that he did not say his father was allowed to write to him. After some of the beatings Rimmer had told him about on his darker days, Lister wasn’t surprised.

“I’m surprised she’s allowed.”

“I wanted no contact, but it was that or keep fighting them in court.”

“Not like you to give up.”

“It was that or keep spending every weekend and holiday in a group home.”

Lister winced. The one good thing about the orphanage back in Liverpool was that it wasn’t a group home. Group homes were where the kids too mean for the orphanage were sent. 

“How’d you survive?”

“I didn’t. I went from being malnourished at home to having my food stolen at the group home. I had to go to hospital again before I was allowed to live on my own.”

“Smegging hell. You sure you want to open that letter?”

Rimmer rolled his eyes. “It’s probably another marriage announcement. Last time she wrote was to tell me that my brother Frank had gotten married. Sent the snaps, too.”

Lister frowned. Sending a marriage announcement and pictures from a wedding you weren’t invited to just seemed cruel to Lister. Still, Rimmer had held onto them so they must mean something to him. 

“You want me to read it with you, just in case?”

“Lister, you don’t know my mother’s handwriting. I’ll read it aloud if you like.”

“Whatever works.”

Rimmer opened it finally. He set aside the envelope and started to read.

“Dear Rimmer,”

“Your own mother calls you ‘Rimmer’?”

“That’s Mumsy, and stop interrupting.”

“One can only hope that you are able to discharge your duties in an adequate manner. I write to tell you that your father is dead. He passed away peacefully in his sleep not long after his fourth stroke.

Regards,

Mother.”

Rimmer stopped reading and set the letter down. Lister placed a hand on his thigh.

“You okay?”

“I hated him. I hated him so much. Did I tell you about how he used to use a traction machine to stretch us?”

“You did mention it once or twice. Sounds like he had a few screws loose.”

That was putting it mildly. Lister doubted Rimmer’s father had had one screw tight to begin with. 

“He was obsessed with all of us getting into the Space Corps. He was denied because he was one inch below regulation height. One inch. How I wish he’d had that smegging inch.”

“Sounds like he couldn’t live his dream so he made you live it.”

“Lister, me being a Catering Officer and dating you was hardly his dream. If I’d have ever brought you home, he’d have taken us out back and shot us both.”

Then, Rimmer stopped talking and his face fell as it all started to sink in. Lister took his hands into his.

“Still hard, though?”

Rimmer looked at him.

“Just once, I would have liked him to tell me ‘well done’.”

“For what?”

“For something, for anything.”

Anger filled Lister as he imagined a younger Rimmer desperate for his father’s approval, and all the abuse he had put up with just to get it. Rimmer continued to speak. 

“I admired and looked up to him. He was my father. It was only natural.”

“Rimmer, there’s nothing natural about your family.”

“I know, but….”

Rimmer didn’t finish his sentence, but he did not need to. It was one thing to know your parents were unworthy of the name. The heart was a whole different story. Then, Rimmer asked him about what happened when his father had died so Lister told him about how he had got loads of presents and hoped some more people could die so he could complete his Lego set. He told him about he thought his father had been flushed down the bog because his Gran had told him he’d gone to the same place as his goldfish.

“You really thought he was down there?”

“I was six. I didn’t know what death was. I used to stuff food and magazines down there for him to read. In the end, they took me to a child psychologist when they found me with my head down the bowl reading him the football results.”

After he finished, Rimmer laughed and Lister started to laugh, too. 

“I…shouldn’t…be…laughing,” said Rimmer.

Lister wiped his eyes. “No, it’s pretty funny actually.”

They only stopped when the tears came to his eyes. Even now, Rimmer would not cry. He let go of Lister’s hands and wiped them away.

“We should get ready for bed. We have work tomorrow.”

“Rimmer, no way are you going to work. Holly, is the Hawk available?”

In the end, the Hawk made him take the two days of grief leave he was entitled to.

“Lister can manage those two days. Can’t you, Lister?”

Lister saluted her. “Yes, Ma’am.”

(Lunch and early morning rush might be annoying, but he’d gladly deal with it for Rimmer’s sake)

“I don’t want to hear any objections then. Dismissed.”

The screen turned black and Lister turned back to Rimmer.

“You ready for bed?”

“I’d rather take a walk alone if that’s all right.”

“’Course it’s all right. Do what you need to do.”

Rimmer smiled. “Thank you, Dave. Don’t wait up for me.”

***

Rimmer wandered around the ship, looking for a place to sit and think, but even this late at night, there weren’t many private places. He went to the Observation Dome, but he found the quiet utterly stifling. He wandered around some more at a loss, until it hit him.

“The diesel decks.”

There would be few there at this time of night and the noise of the ship’s engines would soothe him. He went to the nearest service lift and went straight down there. It was a good idea. He saw a couple of service techs in the distance, but nobody disturbed him and he was free to wander around the engine decks. When the ship was travelling through space, the sound would be deafening as all the ship’s engines were engaged. Right now though, they were orbiting at a Lagrange point above the far side of Triton from Neptune (which was where all the mining took place) so only a few of the engines were on, enough to sustain the ship’s systems and keep them in orbit. They provided a pleasing hum for Rimmer as he wandered about.

Once when he was young, Uncle Frank had taken his father, he and his brothers aboard the ship he commanded while it orbited over Io. His brothers had gone off to the bridge with Uncle Frank while he and his father had been shown down to the Diesel Decks by a young technician. His father had smiled when he saw young Arnold’s awe at the enormous engines and had clapped a hand on his shoulders.

“One day, Arnold, you’ll command a ship just like this.”

Of course, that was before he had entered school and failed at everything that had mattered. Even after escaping from his family’s roof, he had never been truly free of them. His father had been his psychology professor at Io Polytechnic and had used that opportunity to shame his most unworthy son even further. In the end, he’d failed that class, limped through the others and ended up having to drop out, ending up here at the age of twenty with the only skill he had learned at university: how to brew coffee for a living. 

His father had ensured that his paid maintenance was completely cut off once he reached employment age and as eighteen was the employment age on Io, he’d been forced to get a job through Io Polytechnic’s Work Study program and the coffee shop was where they had sent him. He’d taken it until he could find something better and two years later, he’d still been serving coffee to his ungrateful fellow students. Still, at least he’d been able to enter the ship as a Petty Officer, Fourth Class, which was better than a Third Technician in Z-shift.

He doubted his father would have ever seen it that way though, even if he was one of the reasons he had ended up here. Rimmer found himself chuckling.

“Just think, Father. If you hadn’t cut me off, I wouldn’t be here now.”

Here, with Lister. Yes, his father would have likely shot them both, but it may have been worth it just to see the look on his face when he embraced Lister in front of him. Still, everything else he had said earlier to Lister was true as well. Just once he would have liked to hear his father praise him for something and now he would never get that either.

Rimmer wandered the corridors and bridges of the diesel decks, lost in his thoughts when he spotted them. He was wandering along a bridge between two engines when he heard them up above.

“We still have twenty units to sell before we leave Triton. What the smeg have your men been doing?”

Was that Petrovitch? As a Technician, he shouldn’t be selling anything off the ship. Perhaps this would make for good blackmail material. Rimmer ducked between two engines and peered up to see if he could hear anything else. However, Petrovitch was not alone.

“It’s not my fault there are other game dealers selling on Triton,” replied Jenkins. “Bitch to the Queen, not me if you want to complain.”

Oh smeg, oh smeg. Now Rimmer knew what they were selling and it was far nastier than he had ever imagined: Robards, Jenkins, Petrovitch and the others were selling BTL headsets. Better Than Life, or BTL as it was better known was a reality game so potent it killed everyone who entered it, trapping its vicitims in a false paradise while their bodies wasted away. Selling headsets for it carried a minimum sentence of life imprisonment in a penal colony. 

He realized then that just as he could see them, they could look down below and see him if one of them turned their head the right way. He began to back away slowly. However, Jenkins spotted him.

“Down there! A rat!”

Rimmer ran. He ran along the decks towards the nearest service lifts. If he could just get to one before they could catch him, he would be free and clear. However, Jenkins beat him there first, blocking his way. Jenkins smiled.

“Well, look what we have here. One of the coffee fairies."

Rimmer could hear a group of men snickering behind him and knew he was trapped. He cried out for help.

"Holly! Are you here?"

Surely Holly had a screen here somewhere. Jenkins just sneered.

"He won't hear you. The Queen made sure of that."

Before Rimmer could respond, someone hit him from behind and he fell to the floor. Jenkins just watched as the others kicked him. He gave up trying to fight, instead just curling up and trying to shield his head. He begged them to stop, that he would just go along with whatever they wanted of him, but still they continued to kick him. His last thought before he lost consciousness was that it was a shame Lister would not know to look for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If some of the dialogue looks familiar, it is. I used some from "Better Than Life" (why mess with perfection?).


	11. Rimmer, Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lister awakes to find Rimmer missing.

Lister woke up to a ringing alarm yet again. Usually, Rimmer was the one who turned it off, but it continued to ring. 

“Rimmer, you getting that?”

Still, it continued to ring so Lister had to climb down from his bunk and turn it off himself.

“Smeg, Rimmer, how can you sleep through-“

The words died on his lips when he saw Rimmer’s bunk pristine as ever with its perfect hospital corners. It was obvious his bunk had not been slept in. Rimmer had not returned to the bunkroom. Lister called up Holly.

“Has Rimmer left a message for me?”

“No, Dave. You’d best hurry. Opening’s in forty-five minutes.”

Lister rushed through his shower, trying not to panic. Perhaps, Rimmer had been completely unable to sleep and had just wandered around the ship all night. He’d probably come in to the coffee shop to monitor how Lister was doing on his own (never mind that he had managed on his own before). If he did, Lister would send him back to the bunkroom with a cup of strong black and a pastry. That would knock him out fast. Yes, Rimmer would probably be there.

However, he wasn’t there when Lister arrived. They were good for supplies so Lister just opened as Rimmer usually would, throwing on two pots of a dark roast and receiving the day’s breakfast pastries from Rendell. Once it was opening, orders poured in and Lister didn’t have time to think about Rimmer. Once it slowed down again, the worry crept back. He asked Holly again if Rimmer had left a message for him. 

“I have no record of such a message.”

Then, a horrible possibility occurred to Lister.

“Did he hurt himself? Is he in hospital?”

“Arnold Rimmer is not in the medibay at this time.”

“Do you know where he is then? Can you tell him I’d like to see him?”

“I cannot see Arnold Rimmer on any of my current scans.”

Now Lister was growing increasingly alarmed. 

“How’s that possible?”

“He could be in the cargo or diesel decks. I have limited monitoring capabilities in those areas.”

“The smeg would he be doing there?”

“I don’t know, Dave. However, I can tell you that he is definitely still on the ship. Nothing has left the ship since the last batch of miners departed for Triton three days ago.”

It was still too early to report him missing and Lister did not know where to even begin looking. So, he went back to work, trying to think of something, anything that might help. A small and stupid part of him still hoped that Rimmer would walk through the door at any moment. However, the rest of his shift passed with no sign of Rimmer. He sped through closing, not caring if his work was shoddy. He went to see if he could find Chen and Selby.

He was in luck: they were off work and at the Copacabana. They were talking and laughing when Lister arrived, but they stopped laughing when they saw that Lister was alone.

“Where’s Rimmer? You two have a spat?” asked Chen.

Lister told them how Rimmer had gotten the letter telling him his father was dead, gone for a walk and hadn’t returned since. 

“Have either of you seen him at all?”

Both men frowned. “No,” replied Chen, “but we’ll ask around.”

Lister had ordered a pint as usual, but he couldn’t bring himself to drink much. He only choked around half of it down before giving it up and making his excuses to Chen and Selby. He went back to the bunkroom, hoping somehow Rimmer would be there.

He wasn’t, but a letter was. Lister spotted it in their mail cubby and took it inside the bunkroom to read it. The envelope was blank. Could it be from Rimmer? Lister opened it, taking out a piece of paper. 

_He is on the ship. You can find him if you look. Tell anyone and you will never find his remains._

Lister just about dropped the sheet of paper. His hands were shaking. His worst fears had been confirmed. Someone had kidnapped Rimmer, but why? This was a smegging sick joke on their parts. But who would want to hurt them both? 

Robards and Jenkins? Had they seen Lister overhearing them? Had they taken their chance to kidnap Rimmer? Or had Rimmer seen one of them and stumbled on something he shouldn’t have? Lister didn’t know.

What he did know was that he could not take the chance of reporting it. If Robards really was involved, she’d know of any attempt to contact Holly or Todhunter. Even if it wasn’t them, whoever had done it had been able to do it under Holly’s nose and that meant they were capable of blocking his view or hiding under plain sight. He simply could not afford the risk. 

As if to confirm it, he picked up the envelope again and out fell a lock of Rimmer’s hair. Lister knew it was Rimmer’s the second he saw it: he’d recognise those gelled curls anywhere. He held it in his hand, curling his fist around it. 

“I’ll get you back, Rimmer. I promise.”

But how? He didn’t even know where Rimmer was last seen. If he had that, he could at least start looking. He’d have to ask around and smeg knew how long that would take. Gossip travelled fast on the ship, but every minute counted. He’d already wasted plenty of time. However, if he wanted information faster, he’d have to find a way to pay for it. Money wasn’t much good: he didn’t have the kind of money that would get people to talk. He wandered around the room wondering what he had to trade. He found nothing and in his frustration, pulled open their mini-fridge and saw Rimmer’s half-full bottle of Mimasian gin. 

“Of course.”

He’d been a smeghead not to realize it before. They may have broken into Rimmer’s Mimasian gin, but Lister’s still had the seal intact. By now, most people were running low on the alcohol they had bought/smuggled in on shore leave, the ship’s liquor store charged an enormous markup, and they wouldn’t be back on Mimas for a year at least. Right now, this gin was worth its weight in gold. 

Lister began to come up with a plan. He grabbed his leather jacket and deerstalker. They were among the few things he’d brought from Mimas that he valued. Nevertheless, he didn’t just grab them for sentimental reasons. One didn’t survive long on Mimas without any sort of weapon and Lister kept a pocketknife hidden in his deerstalker. You wouldn’t win a real knife fight with it, but it could be enough to surprise someone and get away and that was all Lister needed. He’d always relied more on his luck and wits than his strength to get out of sticky situations before. He’d need every bit of it now. He stashed the intact bottle of Mimasian gin in one pocket, and the lock of hair in another and set out to put his plan into action.

By the time he came back to the Copacabana, Chen and Selby were gone, but he had expected that. Luckily for him, it was quiet now and Sally was the bartender at the Copacabana tonight. He ordered a beer at the bar, and slammed it down. She looked at him

“What’s eating you?”

He scowled. “It’s Rimmer. He left a note saying he doesn’t want to see me right now.”

“Why?”

“Who knows? All I know is that I’d really like to give him a piece of my mind. Stupid git’s gone and hid.”

Sally snorted. “Sounds just like him.”

“Don’t I know it? I’d give a lot to know where he went.”

He asked for another and paid double. Sally looked at him again, this time more carefully.

“Really? What’re you offering?”

“A bottle of Mimasian gin to whoever can tell me where Rimmer was seen last.”

She smiled. “I can work with that. Wait here.”

The story was total crap, but his anger was real. If Rimmer’s kidnappers wanted a free show, they’d get one. Also, everyone else would think that he and Rimmer were set to have a row in public next time he saw him. Such a row promised to be free entertainment for everyone else on the ship. Between that and the gin, he should get some leads. He drank the beer slowly while he waited. 

As he expected, it didn’t take too long. Sally returned. 

“Park saw Rimmer last night in the diesel decks. He’s offered to take you there if I show him the gin.”

Lister handed it to her. He would just have to trust her on this. He just hoped Chen and Selby’s judgment wasn’t complete crap. She returned with the gin a few minutes later.

“He says to meet him on Deck 10 by Service Lift 5.”

Lister smiled. “Thanks a lot. I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it. Know how to get there?”

He listened as Sally gave him the directions. Deck 10 was well below where Lister usually went (He’d go to get supplies on Deck 24) and the lift system on Red Dwarf could be nothing short of diabolical, due to proprietary access to certain floors and all that smeg. Rimmer had tried to explain it once, but Lister hadn’t really cared before. He’d have to take at least two lifts to get there. He wrote the details down on a cocktail serviette. After all, if worse came to worse, knowing how to escape would be important. He thanked her again and left.

Park was waiting for him as arranged. He was a younger man Lister had never seen before and by now, he’d seen almost everyone on the ship. Park took the lead by introducing himself.

“Jim Park. I’m a recent recruit from Triton.”

That would explain why Lister hadn’t met him before. He shook his hand.

“Dave Lister, Catering. You work in the diesel decks?”

“They always need experienced techs there. Couldn’t wait to get off Triton. Nothing to do there except get addicted to BTL.”

Now this was interesting. “Worse than Mimas?”

“At least Mimas has entertainment that’s not a decade out of date. Half my unit became game heads and I sure as smeg wasn’t going to be the next victim. You have the gin?”

Lister took it and showed it to him.

“Intact seal and everything. I’ll give it to you when you show me where you saw Rimmer last.”

Park nodded. “A deal’s a deal.”

They didn’t say much on the lift down and Lister was fine with that. He didn’t feel much like talking right now. Once they exited the lift, Park led him directly to the spot where he saw Rimmer and pointed.

“Lee and I were working on Engine 32. We saw him head that way.”

Lister handed him the gin and hoped like smeg he wasn’t playing him for a fool.

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

Park took the gin. “No, I owe you. You know how hard it is to get decent alcohol on Triton?”

“Worse than here?”

“Got to pay Triton duty on top of everything else.”

Lister winced. That was the main reason he’d never applied for shore leave on Triton. What the smeg would he want to do or buy?

Then, Park left him alone and he set off in the direction he’d pointed in. He wandered the corridors and bridges for smeg knew how long, finding nothing. Perhaps this had been a stupid idea. Then, he spotted it. 

He was walking towards a bank of service lifts when he saw the stain on the floor. It had the distinct reddish-brown colour of old blood. Lister approached it, careful not to step in it and knelt down, looking for hairs. In Lister’s experience, a fight bad enough to spill blood also tended to result in the one being punched losing hair, too. A rather unfortunate brawl back in the Aigburth Arms in his younger, stupider days had taught him that. He looked around and there they were, Rimmer’s distinct curls in among the blood. 

As he was looking down at them and fighting the urge to be sick, an envelope fell on his head. He jerked his head up and saw a shadow dart away.

“Oi! Who’s there?”

They didn’t answer of course. Lister looked at the envelope. It was another plain, white one just like the last. They were watching him. Shuddering, he retreated to the wall by the lifts, putting the wall behind him and the lifts and both sides of the corridor in view before opening the envelope. As expected, another note was inside.

_Well done. You’ve made it this far, which is more than I expected from you. Let’s see if you can find what you’re looking for. The photo will give you a clue or several if you’re smart enough to spot them. _

Lister checked the envelope again and sure enough there was a Polaroid inside. Of Rimmer. His heart crawled up to his mouth when he saw Rimmer bound and gagged and bruised. What had they done to him? As if they knew what he would be thinking, there was an extra note written on the back.

_Don’t worry. We’ve left him intact. For now._

For a moment, he couldn’t see for the rage. Then, he took several deep breaths. 

“Focus. He needs you.”

He forced himself to look at the photo again to look for clues when he noticed that the wall behind Rimmer was blackened. Everything allowed on Red Dwarf was hermetically sealed and packaged, except for the ore. He’d be in one of the mining storerooms then. But how would he ever find which one? 

Then, as he was thinking, he spotted something else. Further down in the lift corridor from where he was leaning, a large metal cart was parked against the wall. It was boxed in on all four sides and when he checked how to open it, he found that he could lift the top and inside was more than enough room to stash a man Rimmer’s size so long as he sat with his knees to his chest. That must be how they transported him to the storeroom. Lister had another idea. He pushed the cart to the nearest screen.

“Holly? You there?”

Holly’s head came on the screen.

“Yeah. What’s happening, Dave?”

“You see anyone take a cart like this into one of the lifts here last night?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. Why?”

“I think Rimmer might have been down here. I want to ask if they might have seen him. Do you know where they got off the lift?”

“They took Lift 4 of this bank up to Level 12 and took the cart to Corridor 3. Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah, it does. Cheers, Holly.”

He ditched the cart and took Lift 4 up to Level 12. As soon as he got off the lift, he knew he was right to come here. The halls here were twice as large as the rest of the ship and storeroom doors lined the corridors. After wandering around for about an hour, he finally checked a map to see where Corridor 3 was. Turned out he’d gone the wrong direction from the lifts, and he had to double back. Once he found it, he saw a door propped open at the very end of the corridor. He took his knife down from his deerstalker and put in a pocket he could reach easily and crept down the corridor, listening for signs of life. However, he heard nothing and saw nobody before he entered the storeroom and saw Rimmer lying on the ground. 

He ran to him and cut off the gag first thing. Rimmer coughed and stirred awake. His eyes widened and he jerked away. Lister tried to reassure him.

“Rimmer, it’s me.”

“Is it really? Or are you just another illusion here to trick me?”

Lister brushed his hand against Rimmer’s cheek so he would know he was real. Smeg, he felt cold. 

“It’s me, smeghead. Now, how about we cut these bonds off your wrists and ankles?”

They had used gaffer tape to bind his wrists and ankles together, the smegheads. Once it was all cut off, Rimmer tried to stand, but couldn’t.

“Pins and needles.”

After being tied like that for hours with all that bruising, it wasn’t a surprise. Lister rubbed his wrists and legs to try and get some circulation going. As he did, Rimmer started to shiver. Lister took his jacket off. 

“Here.”

Rimmer let him put the jacket on, but refused to wear the deerstalker.

“I don’t care how cold I get. I’m not putting that thing on my head.”

Lister shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

As soon as Rimmer could walk, they could leave and get the smeg out of here. Lister didn’t know what the kidnappers had planned, but he sure as smeg didn’t want to find out. After a few minutes, Rimmer told him he was ready to stand so Lister told him to place his arms on Lister’s.

“We’ll stand together on a count of three.”

“You’re okay with that? I could knock you flat on your back if I fall.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” replied Lister with a teasing grin.

“Be serious,” said Rimmer, but Lister still caught a small smile from him. Likely the first since he’d been kidnapped. They’d manage. They stood together on “three” and Rimmer stumbled a bit, but didn’t fall.

“You see?” said Lister. “Not so bad after all. We’ll be out of here before we know it.”

Later, Lister would think he ought to have noticed it was all too neat. Before they could do anything else, the door to the storeroom slammed shut.


	12. Into the Ducts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lister figures out how to escape, but then they run into a new obstacle.

Outside the door, Lister could hear laughter. Rimmer stiffened up.

“It’s her!”

Lister let go of Rimmer and turned around. Sure enough, he could see Robards through the tiny window on the door.

“What’s the idea? This your sick idea of a joke?”

Robards kept smiling. “It’s so much more than that. Your little snitch of a partner heard something he shouldn’t have and you ran right into my trap like the moronic Scouser you are.”

Lister would have launched himself at the door if Rimmer had not grabbed hold of him.

“Lister, no!”

Robards snickered. “How sweet. You two really are of a kind. Don’t worry. My boys and I will take good care of you.”

Then, the window slammed shut and they were left alone again. Rimmer let him go and Lister turned to face him again. 

“We’re in the smeg now.”

“You can say that again,” replied Rimmer, “They’re game dealers. I overheard Jenkins and Petrovitch discussing it in the diesel decks last night.”

Then, Rimmer told him the rest about how he had tried to run and call for Holly’s help, but the others had surrounded him and kicked him until he fell unconscious. 

“…Then I woke up here bound and gagged. Sometimes, I hallucinated that you were here with me. Mostly, I was alone, except when Jenkins and the others came to take the snaps and cut my hair.”

“I’ll kill them.”

“Get in the queue,” retorted Rimmer. “Do you know the things he said to me?”

Lister could imagine all too well. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Brilliant idea,” replied Rimmer. “How exactly do you suggest we do such a thing when they’ve locked the door?”

“I’m thinking.”

“Since when do you think?”

Lister ignored him and looked around the room for any means of escape. It was a slim hope, but their only other option was to wait for Robards or someone else to open the door and fend them off enough to slip past them. Given the number of men Rimmer had described, their chances of success were low so Lister kept looking. Unfortunately, there was only the one door. Lister was just about to give up when he spotted the duct grill. The ore they mined on Triton came from the ocean rocks below the surface ice so the ore always needed to be dried properly for the long journey home. Every ore storeroom had ducts that needed to be kept clean and the easiest way to clean them was to send a person or robot inside to clean it. Lister pointed up to the duct.

“That’s our ticket out of here.”

Rimmer saw where he was pointing and blanched.

“Absolutely not, miladdio. I’m not going in there. What if we get stuck?”

“It’s that or wait for them to kill us,” Lister retorted. 

“You really think they’d go that far? Perhaps we can reason with them.”

Lister laughed. Just like Rimmer to try and find the coward’s way out. 

“They’re past that now. She didn’t even give us a chance to ask for mercy. No, Rimmer, they want us gone and they have plenty of ways to do it.”

Rimmer did not argue with that. Instead, he tried a different tactic.

“How do you intend for us to get up there? It must be twice my height, let alone yours.”

“I can reach it if I stand on your shoulders. Boost me up, will you?”

It took some more arguing, but in the end Rimmer agreed, whinging the whole time.

“I’m the one who should be leading. I was the one who was in the Space Scouts.”

“Didn’t they try to eat you? Anyways, you said it yourself: I’m smaller than you. Shut up and let me work!”

For once, Rimmer shut his gob and let Lister work. It was tricky at first for the duct was meant to be opened from the inside. However, a few pulls did the trick and soon it was open. There was even a hook above to hang it on.

“Nice of them to provide that,” he muttered. Now was the moment he dreaded. He would have to climb in. 

“Admiring the view?” snapped Rimmer from down below.

“Shut it, smeghead,” replied Lister. Still, he was secretly glad Rimmer was snarking at him. It distracted him from the fear that threatened to crawl out of his gut. He took a deep breath and climbed inside the vent shaft. To his relief, it wasn’t too tight, there were emergency lighting strips along the bottom so they could see and there was room enough to turn around. Perhaps he could get through this. He turned around to face Rimmer. Rimmer scowled up at him.

“How am I supposed to get up there?”

Lister looked for a ladder to throw down, but there was none. Trust the JMC to be mean with the maintenance ladders. Then, he had an idea. 

“Throw my jacket up to me, will you?”

Rimmer looked confused before he realized what Lister intended. “You cannot be serious.”

“You see a rope or ladder anywhere? I’m not leaving you here for them. Besides, it’ll hold.”

Rimmer tossed the jacket up and Lister caught it and held one arm while letting the rest drape down. Then, the sound of voices from the corridor began to filter in through the door.

“Hurry!” Lister whispered.

Rimmer didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed the jacket and used it to brace himself as he climbed up the wall while Lister helped to pull him up. Lister had just finished pulling Rimmer into the vent and was backing up to let him crawl in when the door burst open.

“They’re getting away!”

That was definitely Jenkins shouting. 

Rimmer turned around and slammed the grate shut. 

“Let them try to crawl in now.”

However, Rimmer’s smugness was short-lived as shots rang out. 

“Run!”

They had to crawl, but Lister still scarpered. No way was he sticking around to get shot. He forgot how confined the space was as he and Rimmer crawled to get away from their would-be murderers. Lister looked down and just concentrated on moving forward. They kept crawling until they reached a dead end. They would have to climb up or down a tiny ladder in a narrow shaft. It was then that the panic began to set in for Lister. He stopped moving and sat against the duct wall. Rimmer sat beside him.

“Why have you stopped? Tired?”

Lister shook his head. 

“I can’t keep going! I just can’t!”

Now Rimmer looked puzzled.

“Whyever not? Did you injure yourself?”

“It’s not that?”

“Then what? We don’t have all day.”

Lister laughed. “Rimmer, they’ll never find us here. We’ll just be trapped here with the walls closing in around us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Petrovitch is the First Technician on Z-shift. If anyone knows know how to find us here, it’s him.”

Lister laughed. “Great, just great. You sure know how to comfort a guy, Rimmer. He’ll just kill us and leave us here to die here in this metal coffin. Either that or we’ll suffocate.”

Comprehension dawned on Rimmer’s face.

“Lister, are you claustrophobic?”

“How’d you guess?”

Rimmer looked puzzled again.

“You never mind when we share a bunk.”

“Forgive me, but you aren’t exactly a wall, Rimmer. Besides, the bunks are open. It’s only when the walls surround me that it gets bad.”

Now Rimmer looked curious.

“How’d you get to be claustrophobic?”

Lister told him about the orphanage and how the wardens used to punish them for disobedience by locking them in a dark cupboard.

“They couldn’t beat us because that would leave marks and you never knew when we’d be called in for a medical inspection so they locked us up instead. They could always just fetch us if the inspector came calling.”

“Wouldn’t the inspector notice?”

Lister sneered. “You think they cared? So long as we weren’t bruised, they’d just sign the form and forget about us.”

Lister could remember an inspector pointing out the broken light in his dorm, and the wardens promising to fix it as soon money arrived for a new bulb. They never did.

“Just like Io, then,” muttered Rimmer. 

“They’d leave us in the dark at night because they were too cheap to turn the electricity on at night. One night, a bunch of the other boys tried to jump Squeaky Gibson so I fought them off. Left me in the cupboard the whole morning for that one.”

Lister could still remember the terror he felt when the warden had put him in there “to cool his temper”. When they’d let him out at noon, his tears had streaked down his face. 

“The Head Warden told me that next time it’d be a whole day in there. I was four.”

“Sounds like my family,” replied Rimmer. “Only there would always be a beating after just to reinforce the lesson.”

“You know the worst part? That wasn’t what gave me the worst fear. That came later.”

Then Lister told him about Cashier Number Four at Megamart and how her husband had caught them together, sealed Lister up in a box, threatened to drown him and then let him out at the most humiliating moment possible. 

“There I was, bollock naked, right in the middle of the Bootle Amateur production of the Importance of Being Earnest.”

Lister looked over to Rimmer. He’d never told him that one before. Rimmer frowned and didn’t say anything. Lister continued to talk.

“Believe me. I’ve never cheated since.”

“I should hope so,” replied Rimmer, “but even if you did, I would never lock you up in a box.”

Lister sighed with relief. 

“I’d just smeg up your coffee instead if you know what I mean.”

For a moment, Lister didn’t. Then, comprehension dawned on him.

“That’s disgusting!”

“So says the man who spits in the coffees of customers he despises.”

“Wait, you knew?”

Rimmer snorted. “Of course I knew.”

“You never said anything.”

“Of course not. Then, I would have to report you.”

Lister shook his head at Rimmer’s twisted logic. Rimmer continued to speak.

“The point is that I am not going to die here in this duct and neither are you.”

Then, Rimmer picked up his head and kissed Lister hard. Lister relaxed into the kiss and forgot everything else, even his fear. He was sorry when Rimmer let go.

“I’ll be behind you every step of the way, miladdio, so don’t you give up.”

Lister smiled. “How can I with you behind me?”

Then, they froze. Lister could hear voices travelling down the ducts and he knew Rimmer could hear them, too. 

“Let’s move,” hissed Rimmer.

“Where? Up or down?”

“Definitely up,” said Rimmer. “We have a better chance of escaping them that way.”

For once, Lister obeyed him without question. He took a deep breath and started to climb up the ladder in the shaft. Rimmer joined him and together they climbed, even as the voices followed them.


	13. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When her roommate gets called to work in the coffee shop, Sally realizes something isn't right, and one discovery leads to another.

The sound of Holly coming on woke Sally up. She groaned. She’d been hoping to have a lie in before her next shift. Rachel was already awake of course, light sleeper that she was. She heard Holly talking, but was too tired to make out the words. She poked her head out of the bunk.

“You catch that, Rachel?”

Rachel sighed. “I’ve been asked to work the coffee shop today. Apparently, Lister’s done a runner. Go back to bed already.”

Sally tried, but she could not drop off again, even after Rachel had finished her shower and left the bunkroom. First Rimmer had disappeared and now Lister? It nagged at her. A pair of lovebirds going AWOL wasn’t unheard of on Red Dwarf. Mostly the couple in question would turn up a day or two later, accept their punishment and the gossip would entertain the rest of the ship for a week or more depending on the exploits in question. Sally had seen it all before. Why should this be any different? Then it hit her. Rachel hadn’t said anything about Lister having a row with Rimmer. By now that news would have traveled across the ship. Sally called up Holly and asked him if Lister had found Rimmer.

“I last saw Dave Lister in the diesel decks and told him how to get to Corridor 3 on Deck 12. He disappeared from my scans after that.”

Now Sally was wide-awake. She may not have known much about ship maintenance, but she knew Holly was supposed to have full surveillance of the entire ship at all times. 

“How’s that possible?”

“As that deck is not currently in service, it’s been deemed unnecessary for me to have full surveillance of that area.”

A sneaking suspicion formed in her mind. “Who ordered that?”

“Senior Comms Officer Diana Robards.”

“I see. Thank you, Holly.”

Of course it was Robards who had declared that. Sally had never liked her. She treated the lower crew as though she was their mistress and they her slaves. The incident with Rimmer at the Christmas Banquet had just been the latest in a long line of incidents. It wasn’t even the first incident with Rimmer. He was a favourite target among smegheads like her. It would be just like her to pull another nasty trick on both men. 

Sally thought about what to do next. Chen and Selby were the closest friends Lister (and Rimmer through him) had on the ship. If anyone would know more about why Lister and Rimmer had disappeared, it would be them. She hauled herself out of her bunk, threw on some clothes and pulled her bushy hair back into a ponytail. 

“Holly! Can you tell me where Chen and Selby are?”

Turned out they were in their bunkroom. For once, Petrovitch hadn’t shown up to Z-shift’s briefing and they had had no ongoing assignments so naturally they’d gone back to their quarters before someone else could find them and assign them a task. 

“Tell them to wait for me. I’m heading down.”

It was just a quick lift ride and a short walk a few corridors down to their bunkroom and she’d done it a fair few times before. After all, they had no other roommates to contend with. Of course, that meant the others here recognized her, and with Petrovitch absent, they were all here.

“Here for a good time, luv?” called out Sardison from two doors down.

She gave him the finger. Luckily for her, Chen opened his door. 

“Find your own girl, smeghead. Come on in, Sal.”

He and Selby were busy playing Callisto Sevens, a card game popular in this part of the solar system. Selby smiled when he saw her.

“Care to join us?”

“Not today, boys. Lister’s gone missing.”

Selby stopped smiling and Chen looked at her.

“How’d you know?”

She told them how Rachel had been called in to cover for Lister at the coffee shop, and she told them about last night at the Copacabana and how he’d been willing to pay for information about Rimmer with a bottle of Mimasian gin. 

“He was fit to be tied so I didn’t question it much.”

Both Chen and Selby frowned.

“He wasn’t like that when we were there earlier. He was worried sick,” said Chen.

“Only drank half a pint,” added Selby. “It’s that’s not unnatural, I don’t know what is.”

“That’s not all,” said Sally. She told them about the conversation she’d had with Holly about where he’d last seen Lister and how the surveillance on Deck 12 had been decommissioned by Robards. Once she was done, Chen got a thoughtful look on his face. He and Selby told her about the conversation Lister had overheard between Robards and Jenkins the weekend before Valentine’s Day. 

“It may be nothing,” said Selby.

“But he didn’t think so and neither do you,” replied Sally. “You think Robards and Jenkins found out he’d overheard them?”

“Either that or one of them saw something they shouldn’t have,” replied Selby.

“Problem is we have no proof,” said Chen. “They’ll never listen to us without it.”

That much was true, unfortunately. Robards was a Senior Comms Officer after all and Jenkins and his men were one of the most efficient mining teams Red Dwarf had. It was only thanks to the Hawk and Todhunter that they received any punishments at all for treating the lower staff like smeg. Robards had already wheedled her way out of the loss of her drinking privileges in spite of the Hawk’s and Todhunter’s efforts to convince Captain Hollister otherwise. To accuse them, they would need real proof. Selby was the one who had the idea to search Lister and Rimmer’s bunkroom.

“You remember the code right, Chen?”

Together, they all went to Lister and Rimmer’s bunkroom and Chen punched in the code. Door opened first try. Chen may not have seemed like much at first glance to most people, but he never forgot a code. Neither Lister nor Rimmer were there, of course, but it was worth a look. Selby was the one to find the note and envelope on the table.

“Take a look at this.”

Both Sally and Chen leaned over and all her suspicions were confirmed. Why Lister had seemed nervous to Chen and Selby and furious to her. Why he’d been willing to give up an entire bottle of Mimasian gin just to get information about Rimmer. Rimmer had been taken and held as a sick joke at best. At worst…she didn’t even want to think about it. 

“We need to get this to Todhunter now.”

“Just a moment,” said Chen. He was scanning the file folders on Rimmer’s desk, before finding one that said “Recent Reports.”

“Bet you a beer that smeghead’s already written a report about Lister overhearing them.”

“I’m not taking that bet,” replied Sally. Then, she saw the telltale red light turn on under Holly’s screen. Someone was recording them.

“Let’s move!”

Chen and Selby followed her lead without hesitation and she took them to a service lift that would take them straight up to the Officer Decks. They didn’t dare try Holly, at least not anywhere on that floor. She was certain Robards was involved now for only a Senior Comms Officer could force a recording like that. They needed to see Todhunter now.

Luckily for them, Todhunter was in his office. Unfortunately, his gimboid of a secretary, Carson, was also there and wouldn’t let them in. He regarded them all like the smeg on his shoe.

“The First Officer is quite busy. You’ll have to make an appointment. There should be a slot next week.”

Sally persisted. “It can’t wait. It’s about Lister and Rimmer. They’ve both gone missing.”

Carson looked at his screen. “Neither man has been reported missing to Holly, though I see Dave Lister is AWOL. No doubt getting high or engaging in carnal activities elsewhere. (then he looked over at Chen and Selby). Shouldn’t you two be on duty?”

Both men shrugged. “Petrovitch never showed to the briefing,” said Chen. 

Carson looked at his screen again. “Called in sick. I’ll see to it you’re assigned to other duties. Run along, now.”

Sally just about lost it, but she restrained herself. Yelling wouldn’t do any good here. She slowly leaned over the desk and looked him right in the eye.

“We also have information he’d like to have. You really want to be the one to keep it from him?”

He tried to stare her down, but Sally had long mastered the Catering Officer’s stare, the one that could punch through walls. She’d had the Hawk to observe after all. At last, Carson backed down.

“Fine. You have ten minutes before his next appointment. This had better be worth his time. You’ll all be up for a reprimand otherwise.”

She had expected no less from him. She gave him a sarcastic salute. “Thank you, _sir_.”

Todhunter was busy reading a briefing for his next meeting when Carson let them in. However, he put it down once he saw the looks on their faces. 

“What brings you here today? Is something wrong?”

“More than you know, sir,” replied Sally.

With help from Chen and Selby, Sally told him everything they had figured out.

“…Holly himself said that surveillance on Deck 12 was removed by command of Robards. Here’s the rest of the proof.”

Sally handed him the note and envelope while Chen pulled out the report from the file folder. Todhunter picked up the note first, and then the report. Then, he turned to Holly and held the report in front of the screen.

“Do you have a recording of this meeting?”

“I do,” replied Holly. “Robards turned off the video, but I have the audio, plus the backup files from the black box.”

“Retrieve the audio and play it,” said Todhunter.

At first there was nothing much. Robards and Jenkins went through all the usual pleasantries, but then the conversation changed.

“I have Petrovitch selling headsets to the engineers on Triton, but that goit hasn’t been able to sell to any miners. You in?”

“What’s in it for me?” asked Jenkins.

“More money than you’ll earn in a year here,” she replied. “Also, if anyone here needs to be gotten rid of, we can do that, too.”

“Removal service, eh?”

“You could say that. I’m sure you and your men can find places to hide the evidence on Triton. I’ll pay you well for that, too.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

They both started laughing and Todhunter cut off the recording. Silence reigned throughout the room. This was even worse than they had all thought. Then, Todhunter sprang into action.

“Holly, activate Emergency Mode D, code 3482f6. Restore full surveillance to all decks, initiate lockdown and send out an alert order for Dave Lister and Arnold Rimmer. Send the MPs warrants of arrest for Diana Robards, Robert Jenkins and Ivan Petrovitch and their associates.”

“Done,” replied Holly. “Captain Hollister has also been apprised of the situation and is now sending out a distress call to Triton Security and any ships nearby who can spare personnel.”

Todhunter nodded, then he turned back to Sally, Chen and Selby.

“You three are to stay here in my office until the ship is secure.”

They protested, but Todhunter would not hear of it.

“You three are key witnesses. Carson will stay here with you when I leave and only he and I know the code for my door. Therefore, this is the safest place for you and I don’t want to hear any more objections. Is that clear?”

They all saluted him. “Yes, sir!” 

Now was not the time to argue. Kochanski showed up not long after that.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

He told her about the whole situation with Robards, Jenkins, Petrovitch and the disappearance of Lister and Rimmer. 

“You’re the best markswoman among us. Are you willing to fight?”

A steely look entered Kochanski’s eyes.

“Just show me the way.”


	14. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As one problem is solved, another one comes along.

Lister kept climbing until he reached Level 13. Then, he heard voices above as well.

“Why have you stopped?” asked Rimmer.

“They’re coming down, too.”

“I thought they might. Get out here. They can’t come at us from Level 13.”

“Why not?”

“It’s the prison level. The only personnel allowed here are Ackerman and his guards.”

“Didn’t know Red Dwarf had a prison level.”

“You’re not supposed to know. Hurry!”

Lister could hear voices coming from below them. He crawled out into the tunnel and Rimmer followed him. They kept crawling, even when they could no longer hear the voices, looking for a grate to escape through. However, all the grates they passed were far too small for a grown man to pass through, which would make sense for a prison level. At last, Rimmer was the one who asked them to stop.

“Just for a moment.”

Lister looked back at Rimmer and didn’t like what he saw. Even with the sparse lighting here, he looked pale and sickly. He’d put Lister’s jacket back on once he’d had a chance, but he still looked cold. Lister took his hand and he was shivering again. 

“Smegging hell, Rimmer, why didn’t you say?”

“It’s not important,” snapped Rimmer. “I’ve endured worse before.”

“It’s important to me,” replied Lister. 

Then Lister took Rimmer into his arms and put his hands between the jacket and Rimmer’s shirt and sat chest-to-chest, trying desperately to give Rimmer some of his body heat, all the while listening for their pursuers. Rimmer stopped shivering, but Lister still worried. 

“Keep talking. Why the smeg does Red Dwarf of all ships have a prison level?”

“Prison contracts are lucrative,” replied Rimmer. “The JMC knew that when they built their mining ships. They simply pick them up at each port along the way and send them all to the penal colonies as soon as we arrive at Triton.”

“Explains why it’s so quiet now,” said Lister.

In fact, it was far too quiet for Lister’s liking. All the voices following them had disappeared. What the smeg were they planning next? Lister got his answer when metal covers slid out and covered the grates, and a rumbling noise travelled towards them. Rimmer’s eyes widened.

“Petrovitch’s turned on the water for cleaning the prison vents. We’ve got to brace ourselves!”

They looked, but there were no handholds, nor any pipes or anything else they could grab a hold of. The rumbling grew louder. Out of options, Lister wrapped his arms tight around Rimmer, keeping them under the jacket. As Lister had no jacket, Rimmer just wrapped his hands around Lister’s body. The rumbling sound grew deafening. 

“Take a deep breath!”

The water hit them with the force of a jet, lifting them up like they weighed nothing. Lister held onto his breath for dear life as the water pushed them through the tunnels to smeg knew where. It was a close thing as the water continued to flow over them. At last, it subsided. Both men gasped for air.

“I’m going to kill Petrovitch,” muttered Lister once he had his breath back.

“I’ll add him to my to-do list after ‘kill Robards’ and ‘kill Jenkins’,” replied Rimmer.

“Wait, you don’t actually have a to-do list with you, do you?”

“They didn’t confiscate that from me. I even have my pen,” said Rimmer proudly. 

Trust Rimmer to be thinking of a to-do list at a time like this. Lister couldn’t help, but chuckle. Rimmer sighed.

“Of course, they weren’t waterproof so none of that matters. We’ll just have to remember it.”

“I don’t think either of us are going to forget,” replied Lister. “Do you have any idea where the smeg we ended up?”

“Smeg if I know,” replied Rimmer. “Not as if they give Catering Officers a tour of the prison level.”

They were both soaked so Rimmer started to shiver again, once the adrenaline had worn off and Lister wasn’t feeling so great himself. Even as he continued to hold onto Rimmer, Lister looked for some way, any way to escape. Then, the metal covers for the grates came off again and Lister spotted a large one a few metres away. 

“Over here!”

They let go of each other and crawled towards the grate. This opening was far larger than the rest, large enough to let them through. Before they got too close, Rimmer told Lister to stop.

“It could be electrified for all we know.”

“How do we test that?”

Rimmer smiled. “I have an idea.”

Rimmer took his pen out and threw it at the grate. It was one of the brass-covered ones he preferred so it would conduct any electricity if it was there. Nothing happened so Lister approached it to see where it led. Unlike the one they had entered, this one was bolted on the inside edges and never intended to be opened. Also, it was well above where any human prisoner could reach. They would have to jump down and risk breaking an ankle. He called Rimmer over.

“You think we can do it?”

Rimmer looked thoughtfully at the grate for a few moments before speaking.

“We can if we screw open the grate, take a leaf out of your book, and reverse the way we came in.”

It took a moment for Lister to get it.

“You mean after we get the grate open, you want me to hold my jacket, and let you climb down and jump from there?”

“Exactly. That’ll make it a safe distance for me to jump. Then, you can drop the jacket down and then I can catch you.”

“You sure you ought to do that? You aren’t in the best shape right now.”

Rimmer sighed. “I’m taller than you, you goit. Besides, what’s a few more bruises?”

Lister still had his doubts.

“You sure you can catch me?”

“Forgive me, Dave, but you aren’t exactly Mr. Universe. Let me do this at least.”

Lister was about to retort back before he heard the plea in Rimmer’s request. Rimmer had his pride, even now. 

“All right, but you’d better not drop me.”

Rimmer smiled again. “Rightie-o. Let’s see if can get this grate off, shall we?”

Between Lister’s pocketknife and the bent holder on Rimmer’s pen, they managed it. Lister threw the grate cover well away from where they would land, and put the old screws in his deerstalker. You never knew when something small and sharp could come in handy. Then, it was time. Rimmer took the leather jacket off and handed it back to Lister.

“Wish me luck.”

“Break a leg, smeghead.”

That got a smile out of Rimmer just before he climbed out of the grate, holding one arm of Lister’s jacket while Lister held the other, lowering it down until Rimmer could jump. Lister held his breath once Rimmer let go and jumped down. 

“All good here, squire.”

Lister breathed a sigh of relief and let go of his jacket. Rimmer caught it. 

“You see? Easy-peasy.”

Lister wasn’t so sure, but he didn’t have much of a choice now. He jumped. Rimmer went down on one knee and just about dropped him, but his grip held. Lister opened his eyes and grinned.

“Has my prince come to rescue me?”

Rimmer snorted.

“You need to eat more veg. How many stone do you weigh again?”

Lister expected no less. “Just enough for you to handle, Rimsy. You want to keep holding me or find a way out of here?”

Rimmer rolled his eyes, but he set Lister down gently and helped him stand. It seemed as though they had landed in an exercise room because the floor was wood and there was a full-length mirror on the wall. There was little else inside so Lister went to the open door and took a peak outside while Rimmer followed him.

All he saw was an empty corridor with doors open along the side, no screens or cameras and a closed door at the very end. 

“All clear here.”

Before they left the room, Lister took a couple of the screws out of his deerstalker and handed them to Rimmer. 

“Could be of some use if you get grabbed and need to get away.”

Rimmer took them in the tips of his fingers and stashed them in his pockets. 

“I’m not holding these in my hand. Smeg only knows what’s on them.”

Lister rolled his eyes, but at least Rimmer had a weapon now. Together they crept out of the exercise room and out into the corridor. Lister heard nothing except the echoes of their steps, but he was still on high alert. For all they knew, Robards could have people on the prison staff. They checked each room, one person looking inside while the other kept watch. Each one was identical to the first, except for the very last, which Lister checked. Inside was a giant pile of bloodied exercise mats.

“Smegging hell.”

Lister closed that door and told Rimmer what he’d seen.

“Now we know why they don’t have cameras or screens down here,” replied Rimmer. 

“Let’s get the smeg out of here.”

Rimmer looked rather faint and he had not even seen the blood. “Couldn’t agree more. Let’s find some stairs, shall we?”

Luckily for them, the closed door at the end of the corridor opened to a stairwell. 

“Let’s see where this leads,” said Lister.

Rimmer made no reply as they entered and Lister turned back towards him.

“You okay?”

“Tickety-boo,” replied Rimmer. “The sooner we climb out of here, the better.”

Rimmer still looked pale, even for him, but Lister knew better than to argue. They began the climb. They had to climb at least ten flights of stairs before they found a door. At last, Lister and Rimmer reached the top of the stairs. Lister sat down and Rimmer followed him. 

“Just how big is this level anyway?” asked Lister once he’d got his breath back.

“At least fifteen regular levels,” said Rimmer.

“How come nobody noticed?”

“Did you?”

Rimmer had him there. Then, Lister saw a red light blinking on the ceiling. He looked closer and saw a camera lens up there.

“Someone’s recording us. Let’s move!”

Rimmer got up slowly. Lister reached out to help him. Rimmer glared at him, but he still accepted the help. Rimmer’s hands were clammy when Lister grabbed them.

“Smeg, Rimmer, why didn’t you say?”

Rimmer snatched them away as soon as he was on his feet again.

“It’s nothing a little R&R and a shower won’t cure,” he snapped, sweat dripping off his forehead as he said this. 

Lister wasn’t fooled. “Smeg this. We’re finding Holly. Our cover’s broken anyway.”

The red light was still recording. Lister went up to it.

“Get help unless it’s one of the bastards who did this to us. If you are one of them, this is what I have for you.”

Lister gave the camera a two-fingered salute. 

“Lister!”

Lister turned back to Rimmer. “What? It’s the least they deserve.”

“I’m fairly certain there’s a Space Corps directive against giving improper salutes to security cameras.”

“Like I give a smeg,” replied Lister. “Let’s get out of here.”

Lister opened the door and saw a line of cells with open doors. 

“Maybe one of them has a working screen.”

However, all the screens they saw were dead. No matter how many cells they peeked into, all of them had the same blank screen. No matter how many cell corridors they travelled down, the result was the same. They saw no one else, but that was of little comfort to Lister. He began to wonder if this was Robards’ plan all along, to leave them to rot on Level 13 with no means of escape. At last they saw a bench and they both sat down. Then, Rimmer groaned.

“What’s the matter?”

Rimmer sighed. “Can’t you see the time? The clock’s right across from us!”

Lister looked and, sure enough, there was an ancient analogue clock, and the time was around half past seven. 

“What’s the big deal?”

“You didn’t call out, did you?”

“I kind of had other things on my mind. Like finding you.”

Rimmer moaned. “This is terrible. You’ll be marked AWOL.”

Lister sighed. “That’s really not my concern right now. I’ll explain it if we ever get the chance.”

Rimmer sighed. “If you’re marked AWOL, you’ll be lucky to get away with just a reprimand. They might even send you into stasis.”

Lister took him by the hands. “It doesn’t matter,” said Lister. “I don’t give a smeg so long as you’re all right.”

“You don’t understand,” replied Rimmer, “They were going to promote you.”

“Hang on, what’s this all about?”

Rimmer looked away. “It was supposed to be a surprise. I asked the Hawk to take a look at your metrics, and she agreed. She said you could be up for a promotion soon if all went well.”

Lister could hardly believe that. “You asked about that for me? Wouldn’t that make us equals?”

Rimmer smiled. “I’d still be at a higher pay band than you, but, yes, we’d be the same rank.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Arnold Judas Rimmer?”

“What? You’re certainly competent enough and the Hawk agrees. Besides, I’d like to have a lie in on mornings other than our days off.”

That sounded more like the Rimmer he knew. “Oh no. You are not sticking me with all the morning shifts.”

“Only one or two, “ replied Rimmer with a teasing smile. “Besides, you’d have some mornings and afternoons off, too. Wouldn’t you enjoy that?”

Lister was about to reply when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye from the corridor they had walked from. 

“Someone’s coming!”

A prison guard turned the corner and sauntered toward them. Rimmer froze.

“He’s one of the ones who attacked me,” he whispered.

Lister stood up and got his pocketknife ready. The guard stopped a few paces back and smiled. He was taller and had more muscles than both of them together.

“Well, look what we have here. The Queen’ll be pleased.”

“Not even pretending, are you?” said Lister.

The guard laughed. “Why bother? No one’s going to save you now.”

Then, he lunged for them and before Lister knew it, the guard had pulled Rimmer away from the bench and into a headlock.

“Put the knife down or he gets it.”

As Lister obeyed him, he saw that the guard’s hands had no gloves or any other form of protection. Then, he had an idea.

“Nails, Rimmer!”

The guard sneered. “What? Is the little fairy going to use his fingernails on me?”

Anything else the guard had to say was cut off when Rimmer used two of the grate nails to scratch the guard’s hands. It was just a momentary distraction, but it was enough time for Lister to dart around and unclip his truncheon. Before the guard had time to react, Lister ran around behind him and hit him on the back of the head until he let Rimmer go and fell to the ground. Rimmer kicked him once he was down.

“Good riddance.”

Lister checked the guard to make sure he wouldn’t get up again. He still had a pulse, but was out cold. Lister sighed with relief. He did not want to kill unless he had to. Meanwhile, Rimmer was frisking him and found a pair of handcuffs. 

“These should do nicely.”

They handcuffed the guard to the bench and left him there. They looked, but found no other weapons besides the truncheon. 

“Bit of luck that is,” said Lister. “If he’d have had a gun, we’d likely be dead already.” He gave the truncheon to Rimmer and took his knife back.

“Easier for an amateur to handle.”

For once, Rimmer didn’t protest at being called an amateur. Instead he said, “Let’s get the smeg out of here. I can hear more voices coming where he came from.”

Once he said it, Lister heard them too. If they came from the same place the guard did, they were unlikely to be friendly. For all they knew, all the remaining guards could be on Robards’ pay. They walked briskly in the opposite direction. As the voices grew louder, they ran, all tiredness forgotten in their hurry to escape. Instead of running into another cell corridor, they ran through to a large staging area at least five stories high with several levels of metal walkways. One of which held Robards and Jenkins, both of them holding guns.

“Oh, smeg,” said Lister.

Robards smiled. “Oh smeg indeed, boys. Put your weapons down where we can see them or we’ll shoot you in the gut. Trust me, you won’t enjoy that one bit. ”

Even from down where they were, Lister could see the coldness of her eyes. He placed his pocketknife down and Rimmer did the same with the truncheon.

“Very good. Now get on your knees and hold your hands above your head.”

When Rimmer was slow to cooperate, Jenkins shot the ground next to him and he complied, hands trembling. 

“Didn’t learn your lesson then,” she said. 

“You should’ve let me and my boys handle him properly before,” said Jenkins. “Then we wouldn’t have these sorts of problems.”

“All in good time, Robert,” she replied with a smile of her own. “They ought to be on their way right now.”

If she was talking about the same voices they had heard back in the corridor, then they were well and truly trapped. He sneaked a glance at Rimmer and he looked as ill as Lister felt. How the smeg were they going to get out of this one? His eyes darted, looking for any way to escape, futile as it was. Then, he spotted them.

Todhunter and Kochanski were both on a walkway above Robards and Jenkins, and both of them were holding guns. He caught Kochanski’s eye for just a moment, but it was enough. She put a finger to her lips and then pointed to the gun. Lister understood what he needed to do then: distract Robards and Jenkins so they could set up their shots. 

He sneaked another glance back at Rimmer. Had he seen them, too? He didn’t dare say anything that might alert Robards and Jenkins. Rimmer looked back at him just for a moment, but it was enough. Rimmer winked at him, and what he did next was nothing Lister would have expected. Rimmer genuflected before them.

“Please, please don’t kill us! I’ll do anything for you!”

Robards sneered while Jenkins laughed. 

“Get off the floor, you louse,” said Robards. “I’m not going to kill you yet. Not before we’ve had our fun first. You boys will be coming with us. ”

Rimmer sat up, tears running down his face and Lister knew for certain he was shamming. Amazingly, they were buying it. Lister played along.

“How the smeg were you planning to leave Red Dwarf? There’s nothing out here.”

Jenkins snickered, “That’s where you’re wrong.”

Lister barely listened as Robards talked about how she had the keycards for the Canary’s ship and how they would all escape on that, dragging him and Rimmer along as ‘entertainment’. Couldn’t Kochanski and Todhunter hurry up already? It felt like hours since he’d spotted them.

Then, Lister could hear footsteps to the right of where Robards and Jenkins were standing.

“Behind you!”

The game up, Kochanski and Todhunter took their shots even as Petrovitch appeared and fired his own gun. Shots rang out in all directions, a man above them screamed and Lister grabbed Rimmer and they both ducked. If they died, they would die together. Lister didn’t know how long they sat there until his ears stopped ringing. Only then did he dare to speak.

“You holding up, Rimmer?” Lister said in a half-shout.

“Been better,” he replied, “but I’ve not been shot so I suppose I’m all right. You?”

“Same,” replied Lister. “D’you know who screamed?”

“Barely heard it over the gunfire.”

“It’s okay, lads,” said a new voice from behind that sounded almost familiar to Lister. “The enemy’s been neutralized. You can get up now.”

Rimmer froze in Lister’s arms. “It can’t be,” he whispered.

“Who?”

“Never mind that. Just help me stand.”

Lister didn’t bother to argue. Better to face a potential new enemy standing on their own two feet than on the floor. He grabbed his knife back just in case before helping Rimmer to stand. Together, they turned to face this stranger.

A man stepped out the corridor where they had come from, wearing the black-and-green pilot’s uniform of the Space Corps. He held a gun as if he knew how to use it. He sighed when he saw Lister holding the knife.

“Put the knife away. I’m here to help you.”

Lister put it away, but still kept a wary eye on the strange pilot. The more he looked at him, the more familiar he seemed. 

“And who the smeg are you?”

The pilot holstered his gun. “Test Pilot Captain Howard Rimmer, currently serving on the Columbus 3, at your service.”


	15. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The enemy may be down, but the battle isn't over yet.

Lister looked at Howard. Sure, his hair may be straighter and he may be shorter than his Rimmer, but he had the same distinct nostrils and face shape that his Rimmer had. He also had the same nasal Ionian accent, even worn away as it was by years of service in space. Given all the stories Arnold had told him about his older brothers, Lister half-expected to see a sneer on Howard’s face. Instead, he looked incredibly relieved. 

“You don’t know how glad I am to see you both alive.”

Arnold scowled. “Why? So you can add yet another medal to your no doubt extensive collection?”

Howard scowled back. “We thought you were most likely dead. Either that, or beyond saving. You’d already been missing for hours when we received the alert order.”

“And no doubt you’ll be happy to claim the credit for our survival,” retorted Arnold. “Never mind what Dave and I did before then.”

Lister felt it was time to intervene. He placed his hand on Arnold’s elbow to calm him and asked Howard how he knew to find them. 

“We got a distress call from Red Dwarf,” he replied. “Apparently some of your friends came to talk to Fran- First Officer Todhunter and the computer here told the Captain, and he called for help. I came as soon as I received the call.”

“No doubt flying on a special high-speed prototype space jet,” muttered Arnold. 

Howard looked at him. “How did you know?”

“Mother,” replied Arnold, “She told me all about your exploits as a test pilot for Houston Earth.”

“Sounds just like her,” muttered Howard in return. “Count on Mumsy to tell you that and nothing else about me.”

“You’re making my head ache,” retorted Arnold. “After all these years, you think you can come waltzing in pretending to be the great hero? After what you and the others did to me?”

Howard’s expression darkened. “I know, Arnold. I know because they did the same to me after you left.”

Arnold snorted. “Am I supposed to pity you?” 

Lister felt it was time to intervene again. He tightened his grip on Arnold and directed a glare at Howard. “Hey, that’s enough from you two. Now’s not the time for this.”

As if to make his point clear, that was also the moment Todhunter screamed above. 

“He’s been shot!” Kochanski yelled from above. “I need help stabilising him!”

Of course, that was also the moment Arnold sank to his knees and clutched his head. Howard stood there for a moment, and Lister could see he was torn between Arnold and Todhunter. Lister took matters into his own hands.

“Go!” he shouted. “I’ll look after him.”

Howard ran up the stairs and Lister knelt down next to Arnold.

“What’s going on?”

Lister knew he would never show such weakness in front of one of his brothers unless something was seriously wrong. Arnold kept clutching his head. 

“I feel sick. Listy, are you there?”

Lister placed his hands on his arms. “’Course I’m here. Can’t you see me?”

“Massive headache,” replied Arnold. “Can’t see anything.”

Lister’s alarm grew. He called out for Holly and, at last, Holly answered. The black screen near them came on.

“I’m here, Dave.”

“Where the smeg were you before?”

Lister knew it was irrational to snap at him. He just didn’t care.

“I had to stay quiet so as not to alert the criminals. Already summoned the medics and told them to expect one concussion patient and one gunshot wound patient.”

“It’s just a headache,” retorted Arnold through gritted teeth. “I’ll be fine.”

Trust Arnold not to whine the one time he would have good reason to. Lister turned all his attention back to him. He tried to tell him everything would be fine just as he said, but the words would not come out. Even now, people could still die or get brain damage from a concussion. Instead, he pulled him in closer. He could hear the medics approaching so he had to speak fast.

“No matter what happens, just remember that I love you.”

Then, the medics arrived and everything was a blur after that. The medics busy tending to Rimmer had thrown the jacket aside, so Lister put his jacket back on and sat at the back. Lister barely noticed how empty the corridors were as the medivan sped along them. Once they arrived at the medibay, everyone was needed to tend to Rimmer and Todhunter, who had arrived there before them, so Lister and the others had to wait outside. He and Kochanski sat on a bench together. Howard had gone off with some of the MPs for questioning, leaving the two of them alone together. 

Kochanski turned to him. “I’m sorry.”

Lister looked back at her. “If it weren’t for you, we’d likely be dead now.”

Kochanski looked down. “I was her roomate for a year. I ought to have noticed something.”

“She hid it well,” replied Lister. “We all thought she was just a drunken smeghead.”

Kochanski snorted. “I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to strangle her. Never thought I’d be the one to actually kill her.”

“So she’s definitely dead?”

Kochanski looked back at him. “She is. I saw her fall.”

They sat in silence for a few moments after that. Then, Lister asked what had happened to Todhunter.

“Petrovitch shot him in the shoulder before going down. The bullet missed any arteries or he’d already be dead. He was still bleeding and going into shock, but Captain Rimmer helped me stabilize him long enough for the medics to take over.”

Once she’d said it, Lister noticed the blood on her hands, arms and clothes. Amazing what you didn’t notice when you were worried out of your mind. She looked numb as though she still couldn’t believe what had happened. Lister moved closer to her. 

“If it weren’t for you, he’d be worse off. I’m sure he knows it, too.”

Kochanski laughed. “Look at you, comforting me after all you’ve been through.”

“It’s better than thinking about what could happen next,” he replied. 

Kochanski didn’t say anything back and Lister was glad of it. Both knew what could happen and no meaningless platitudes would help. At least Todhunter would be brought back as a hologram. Rimmer, though…

“I can’t believe I might lose him, too. I’ve already lost my family. Why him, too?”

For the first time since they had sat down together, Kochanski looked horrified. “All of them?”

“My Dad when I was six, my Mum when I was seven and my Gran when I was fourteen. They were all the family I had.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Guess I should be used to it by now.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” said Kochanski. “Nobody should.”

He gave her a small smile. “Thanks.”

When he leaned against her, she returned the favour. Howard found them sitting together like that.

“Sorry to interrupt, Second Officer Kochanski, but the MPs need to see you.”

“Right now?” asked Kochanski.

“I’m afraid so,” replied Howard. “They need your testimony, and they’ll need Lister’s after yours.”

Kochanski stood up. “I’d best go, then. Good luck.”

Howard sat down in the space vacated by Kochanski. Lister sat up and eyed him warily.

“It’s best if I stay with you as a guard. The MP’s have got most of the accomplices, but until they’ve found everyone, we’d best be careful. You’re a key witness, after all.”

Lister waited for the real reason. No reason to sit beside him if that was all. 

“Also, you’re Arnold’s partner. I’d like to talk to you while I have the chance.”

Lister shrugged. “All right. What do you want to talk about?”

“What would possess a man like you to date my younger brother in the first place?”

Lister felt a stirring of anger. “What do you mean by that? Thought he’d stay a virgin his whole life?”

That got a blush out of him. “Ye-No, but I wasn’t expecting someone like you.”

The anger grew. “Someone who drinks cheap beer straight out of the bottle?”

“No, somebody male.”

The anger retreated and he stopped glaring at him. “Must have been a bit of a shock to hear that.”

“You’re telling me. Not that I’m not happy for him, but for years I thought I was the only one in our family.”

Even now he couldn’t say it. Just went to show what kind of place they had grown up in. Lister said it for him. “The only gay man?”

“Bisexual, actually” replied Howard, “but, yes.”

Lister had his own suspicions concerning Arnold’s sexuality, but he kept them to himself. No smegging way was he going to talk about them with Howard. Howard continued to talk.

“Never thought I’d meet a man I loved, either. It all seemed so much simpler to find a girl I liked and marry her. Then, I met Frank.”

It was then that Lister knew. “You’re Todhunter’s partner, right?”

Howard started. “How did you know?”

“He told me about you just before Valentine’s Day. He didn’t mention you by name, but he said your family was Ionian, and you wanted to keep it quiet. Also, you kind of gave it away earlier.”

“That I did. My brothers used to tease me all the time about my slips of the tongue. Got punished a few times for it, too. Has Arnold told you anything our family growing up?”

“Enough,” replied Lister. His glare returned. “Seems like you were a large part of the misery for him.”

Howard winced. “True. That’s part of the reason I’m here now.”

“And Todhunter’s the other part.”

“Of course, but there are other reasons I want to talk with Arnold.”

“What reasons?”

“I’d rather wait until he wakes up,” replied Howard. “Not much worth saying if he doesn’t.”

The man was as white as a sheet now. Even knowing how he’d treated Arnold when they were younger, Lister still felt pity for him. If the worst happened, he would lose both his younger brother and his partner. 

“Looks like you and I are on a similar boat then,” said Lister.

“You could say that.”

Not much to say after that. All they could do now was wait. They sat together in silence until two MPs came for Lister. 

“I’ll come find you if I get any news.”

Lister nodded and followed the MPs. He did not recognize either of them so he figured they must be from Triton. They led him to one of the “interview” rooms kept near the medibay, so they did not have far to go. Two women in suits who had the look of police officers were waiting for him, and Lister sat down across from them. 

“I’m Detective Inspector Irene Gavelin of Triton Security and this is my colleague, Inspector Nancy Trent.”

Lister raised his brows. “Didn’t know they had Detective Inspectors all the way out here.”

“They didn’t,” replied DI Gavelin, “not before people started dropping dead from BTL.”

“That bad?”

“There are five known deaths linked to BTL,” replied Inspector Trent, “and at least seven more addicts on their deathbeds in hospital.”

“And more we likely don’t know of,” added DI Gavelin. 

This was far worse than he had imagined. It wasn’t just him and Rimmer anymore. He straightened up and looked DI Gavelin in the eye.

“What do you need from me?”

“Just your testimony. Let’s start from the beginning.”

By the time Lister left the room, he felt as though his brain had turned to cheesecloth. He’d given them his full testimony, and answered every picky question they had. He only hoped it would do some good in the end. 

The Hawk was waiting for him outside the interrogation room. Lister saluted her out of habit.

“At ease, Lister,” she replied. 

He obeyed her, but did not relax. “What’s my punishment?”

“For deserting your post? Can you account for your time?”

“We were trying not to get killed.” The reply slipped out before he could catch it. “Begging your pardon, Ma’am.”

The Hawk just snorted. “Let’s just chalk it up to extenuating circumstances, then.”

“Won’t the Captain mind?”

“I’m Acting Captain now along with First Officer Davis,” she replied. “Captain Hollister’s seen fit to run off in all the chaos, and as Todhunter’s incapacitated and the other officers under suspicion, the task falls to us.”

“Smegging hell.”

“You can say that again. I can assure you that you won’t be punished. Appearing in Court will be punishment enough if it comes to that. I’m here for other reasons.”

“What reasons?”

“First, I want to ask how you are. Are you all right?”

That was not what Lister had expected to hear. “All right as can be expected.”

She still frowned. “I still want the doctor to examine you.”

“Yes, Ma’am. How are Todhunter and Rimmer?”

“They’re both stable for now,” she replied. “I’m sending Todhunter to Triton for further treatment of his injuries.”

“And Rimmer?”

He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, but he was sure she picked up on it.

“According to Doctor McCardell, it’s too dangerous to move him,” she replied. “He has a nasty concussion and I’ve authorized the use of medical nanobots to stabilize him. He’s resting now and will be until the nanobots finish repairing the damage.”

From what Lister had heard, nanobots were scarce and he’d be willing to bet most would have saved them for Todhunter and let Rimmer die.

“Thank you,” he told her, tears welling up in his eyes.

“It’s the least we could do,” she replied, ignoring the tears. “McCardell’s waiting for you in Exam Room 4.”

He thanked her again and went there. Doctor McCardell was a no-nonsense older man who’d been on the ship longer than Rimmer. Turned out Lister had a few cuts and scrapes he hadn’t even noticed before. Other than that, he was fine and just needed rest and food. As the doctor cleaned his cuts, he asked McCardell where Rimmer was.

“He’s in private quarters for his own safety,” replied McCardell, “And Captain Rimmer has requested that you be quartered with him.”

“Did he say why?”

“He feels you would be a calming influence once he wakes,” replied McCardell. 

“And guarding us together would make things easier for them, too,” added Lister. 

“I just have one rule if you’re staying with him: do not attempt to wake him before the nanobots do. Can you follow that rule?”

When Lister didn’t reply right away, McCardell turned stern and added, “If you wake him prematurely, it will disrupt the healing process.”

“I’ll leave him be,” replied Lister. “I just want to see him again.”

There was the slightest softening of the doctor’s demeanour.

“Very well. Captain Rimmer will escort you there.”

Howard was waiting for him outside the examination room.

“I suppose you’ve heard about both of them. I’ll be flying Frank to Triton. He’s being secured now as we speak.”

Lister nodded. “And you’re taking me to Arnold first?”

Howard shrugged. “I agreed to it.”

He said nothing as he lead Lister to the private room, but Lister wasn’t surprised when he asked to speak to him before entering. Why else would he escort him? Howard handed him a letter.

“Can you give this to Arnold when he wakes up?”

Lister nodded. “Sure. Don’t be surprised if he refuses to read it, though.”

“He won’t,” replied Howard. “I know him well enough for that.”

“Do you really?” replied Lister.

Howard sighed. “I know you don’t trust me and I don’t blame you. I just have one thing to ask before I go. Did he ever tell you our family’s motto?”

Lister struggled not to roll his eyes. “No, why?”

“’Winning isn’t everything, but losing is nothing.’ That was how we were all raised.”

Lister understood, and his eyes narrowed. “So long as he was the loser, the rest of you were all safe.”

Shame crept up Howard’s face. “I’m not proud of it.”

“I should smeg as well hope not,” he growled.

“I know it’s a long road, but I hope you can both forgive me eventually. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, he left and Lister entered the room to find Rimmer asleep on one bed and another empty one for him. Lister set the letter on the table between the beds and forgot Howard completely as he looked down on Rimmer. He looked so peaceful asleep, even though he had an IV taped to his hand. Lister reached out before he remembered the doctor’s instructions.

“Just a light touch won’t wake him.”

Lister looked up and there was Holly on the screen.

“How d’you know?”

“The nanobots have him in a deep sleep. They told me.”

Somehow, Lister wasn’t surprised. Holly continued to talk.

“I’ve also ordered some food sent up. It’ll have to be a vending machine meal due to the lockdown, but least you know what you’re getting.”

As soon as Holly said that, Lister’s stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since this whole ordeal had started. You could give him a deep-fried coal and he’d eat it.

“Thanks, Hol. Can you give us some privacy now?”

“Sure thing, Dave.” He winked and the screen went black. 

Lister turned back to Rimmer and carressed his cheek with the back of his hand. Rimmer stirred, but did not wake.

“I’ll be waiting for you, smeghead. However long it takes.”

The food arrived soon after and Lister wolfed it down. It was some fancy fish dish, with soup and salad included. He ate everything, even the salad. He could only imagine how Rimmer would tease him if he were awake to see it. Then, the exhaustion hit him and it was all he could do to collapse on the sheets. Whatever happened next, he needed sleep before he could face it.

**Author's Note:**

> Expanded from this fill here: https://fail-fandomanon.dreamwidth.org/390477.html?thread=2296269645#cmt2296269645


End file.
